Iron Grip
by Sydelle Rein
Summary: Gwaine may be known for his tavern brawls and his willingness to prank his fellow knights, but he is nothing if not loyal. So when Merlin begins acting strangely, Gwaine goes to great lengths to figure out what's wrong, unaware of just what he will uncover in the process: blackmail, plots, danger, and a dark secret hanging over the head of his best friend like an axe. No slash
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello my fabulous readers! Here is a BRAND NEW multi-chapter fic that has _nothing_ to do with my three-part ASG series. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, no worries. It holds no bearing on this fic.)**

**Inspiration for this fic? Easy! Gwaine is my favorite knight (Currently. That may change to Percival. We'll see what happens in season 5…) and I realized that I've never really written an in-depth Gwaine story! Shame on me! He usually just pops up in my fics for his awesome hilarity. But I figure it was time to give him a leading role.**

**This idea has been floating around in my head for a while, so I really hope you like it!**

**Set after Season 4.**

**And here we go!**

**~Syd**

Chapter One

Merlin had particular difficulty getting up this morning.

He'd been up late, reading his spell book and trying out a few new, small things while Gaius was asleep. Then, when he'd at last stored the book underneath the floorboards again and lay down, sleep eluded him for a couple long hours anyway. When he finally did get to sleep, he was cursed with strange dreams that made absolutely no sense and that he forgot upon awakening.

So when Gaius came up and yanked his blanket off with a loud declaration that he'd be later than usual if he didn't get up, all Merlin wanted to do was turn over, bury his head again, go back to sleep, and stay there all day.

Later that day, he'd wish he had done just that.

Instead, he got out of bed, quickly dressed, grabbed an apple on the way out, and made his way down to the kitchens.

By the time he at last made it to the royal chambers, Arthur and Guinevere were, unfortunately, already awake.

"Good morning, Merlin," Gwen greeted cheerfully while she continued to make the bed.

"Gwen, you know that's my job, don't you?" Merlin pointed out as he set the tray down on the table, now loaded with twice as much food as he'd grown used to carrying over the years.

"Yes, Guinevere, and you know how much Merlin loves doing his chores, so we'd hate to deprive him of the opportunity," Arthur pointed out. He turned to Merlin. "Where have you been? You're even later than usual."

"Oh as if you're not used to it," Merlin retorted. "Besides, at least you're able to dress yourself after all these years."

"I've always been able to dress myself!" Arthur defended. "I just shouldn't _have_ to."

"And he didn't today, either," Gwen pointed out, coming over now that the bed was finished. "I had to help him when his button got stuck." She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

"That is beside the point!" Arthur shouted indignantly.

Gwen and Merlin both laughed, Merlin with a sly smirk that said _See?_ "Just come get breakfast, Arthur," Gwen said as she took her own seat. "Merlin, come join us."

Merlin shook his head, as he had so many times before. Once in a while he took her up on her offer, just to annoy Arthur, but he always planned ahead for that and brought extra food—a tidbit that had not gone unnoticed by the king.

But Arthur did take his seat. Merlin glanced around to see what other of his morning chores Guinevere had already done. Mornings were so much nicer now that she was queen. Spotting the un-stoked fire, Merlin went to work stirring up the flames to get rid of the morning chill in the room.

"Remember, Merlin, Lord Nigel arrives today, you'll need to be there with me to greet him."

"Really?" Merlin asked in mock surprise. "Are you sure about that? I don't remember you mentioning it," he finished sarcastically. "Not at training, or at dinner last night, or when you had me prepare the guest chambers at the furthest corner of the palace." Arthur picked up his empty goblet and chucked it at Merlin's head for his insolence. Merlin, back to him as he continued to stoke the fire, didn't see it and took a clang to the back of the head.

"Ouch!" He rounded on the king and glared. "Arthur!"

"Oh, oops? Did my goblet slip from my hand again?"

In truth, Arthur had complained ceaselessly about the lord since he got the letter announcing Nigel's intent to visit, nearly three weeks ago. A minor lord and a butt-kisser, Nigel had been disliked since back in Uther's time.

Well, Merlin thought to himself, at least there won't be any trouble. Just annoyance. And _that_ he was used to on a daily basis.

He picked up the basket of dirty clothes that Guinevere had already piled together and made his exit, giving a cheerful farewell to the queen and purposefully ignoring the prat.

Several corridors later and two floors down, Merlin rounded a corner and was violently smacked into, dropping the basket and landing on the ground with a painful thud.

"Merlin!" A familiar voice called down to him. "Hide me!"

Merlin peered up at Gwaine and groaned. "Nice to see you, too," he muttered.

"I'm serious! Hide me! Percival's out for blood!"

"What did you do this time?" Merlin droned as he stood up. It wasn't easy to anger the even-tempered Percival.

"A harmless little prank which he took _way_ too seriously. Now, _help!"_

With a grin, Merlin pulled Gwaine several feet back down the hallway, opened a door, and shoved him in. He returned to his basket and picked it up just as heavy footsteps announced the arrival of Arthur's largest knight. Percival came barreling around the corner.

Merlin did a double take as Percival stopped short in front of him. Percival's bare arms, neck, and the right side of his face was covered in a slight, red rash.

"Merlin! Have you seen Gwaine?"

Merlin innocently shook his head. "Nope, not on this corridor. Sorry Percival. What did he do to you this time?"

Percival shook his head. "Tell you later," and he ran up the stairs to their right, assuming Gwaine must have gone up that way.

Merlin waited a couple of minutes before backtracking and opening the door.

Several brooms and mops fell out with a clang as they smacked the ground. Gwaine stuck his head out and looked down the hallway. "Is it safe?" he asked.

"He ran up to the next floor," Merlin assured him. As Gwaine came out of the tiny storage room, Merlin picked up the fallen items and carefully restored them. "You put itching powder in his bed?" Merlin asked, grinning broadly. "Don't you think that might have been going a bit far?"

"He dyed my hair pink!" Gwaine shouted in defense. Merlin grinned wider, remembering last week. The pink had faded now, as it had only been a powder Percival had dropped on him from above, but it had taken two days before all the splotches had finally faded.

"And you replaced all his tunics with dresses," Merlin pointed out.

Gwaine grinned. "Many thanks to Sir Leon for _that_ idea. By the way! I have an epic idea for next time! (Because you _know_ Percy's going to retaliate.) But I need an extra pair of hands so—"

"No!" Merlin protested immediately. "There is _no way_ I'm getting on Percival's bad side. This prank war is between you two."

"Oh come on!" he whined. But Merlin nearly smiled, waved, and walked away. "I'll drag you into this eventually!" Gwaine promised before hurrying in the opposite direction.

The day continued normally enough. And hours later found Merlin standing obediently behind Arthur on the castle's main steps as Lord Nigel and his small traveling party arrived.

"It won't be too bad," Merlin muttered, so only Arthur could hear. "He's only here for two weeks."

"He _says_ he's only here for two weeks," Arthur muttered back. "Last time he said that he stayed for a month."

"Well if he's as much of a butt-kisser as you seem to think, you could always use that to your amusement," Merlin pointed out.

A grin tucked at the corner of Arthur's mouth, but he quickly schooled his expression. "That would be improperly taking advantage of him," he pointed out in his most kingly fashion. Merlin merely snorted, and Arthur had to fight even harder not to laugh.

"Lord Nigel," Arthur said at last when the man had dismounted. He descended the steps to shake hands with the lord, Merlin obediently following in his heels. He hated these formal greetings. "I am pleased you were able to come."

When Merlin was on level ground with the man, he noticed that Nigel was a good head shorter than him. His dirty-blonde hair was cut short, which somehow accented the angularity of his face. His brown eyes were framed with heavy eyebrows.

"Your Majesty it is an honor to greet you as my king. I only regret I could not come sooner to offer my personal congratulations, or even attend your coronation."

Merlin wondered vaguely who would "congratulate" someone about his father dying. If he really was a kiss-up, he was a really bad one.

"My thanks for your kind words," Arthur responded. Merlin fought the urge to roll his eyes, knowing his friend was already aggravated and bored to near tears. "You will dine with me tonight, of course? Or would you rather rest from your journey?"

"Oh, no Sire! It would be a great honor to dine with you. I graciously accept." Only Merlin noticed the tiny droop of Arthur's shoulders at the acceptance.

"Wonderful," Arthur lied. "Until then, may I introduce to you my personal manservant, Merlin. He'll be looking out for you during your stay." Merlin sighed inwardly as Nigel's eyes fell on him. He'd suspected as much. But a man could hope, couldn't he? "He'll show you to your chambers." With that, he bid the lord farewell, winked at Merlin when he at last turned his back to Nigel, and strode away with a grin.

Merlin silently took Nigel's two large bags and began to lug them inside, Lord Nigel following silently, at first.

"So how long have you been working for His Majesty?" the lord asked finally, breaking what Merlin had considered a very comfortable silence.

"Over six years," Merlin answered.

"And how long have you lived in Camelot?"

"The same," Merlin responded again. "I was only here for a couple of weeks before I was assigned to Ar—His Majesty."

Nigel's eyes widened. "How did you come by such an honor so shortly?" he asked.

Merlin inwardly sighed. He missed the silence. And his arms were really beginning to ache. These bags were _heavy._ "I saved his life, actually," was his answer. "Pulled him out of the way of a dagger. His father thought a position in the royal household a suitable reward."

"You must be quite loyal to him."

Merlin merely nodded. At last, they had reached the rooms. He opened the doors and stood back, allowing the lord to enter first before following and depositing the bags at the foot of the bed, relieving his aching shoulders.

"I will return when dinner is ready and guide you to the Dining Hall. In the meantime, is there anything else I can do for you, my lord?" Merlin crossed his fingers behind his back.

"Yes, actually, I need one more small favor, if it's not too much trouble."

"Of course, my lord."

"Close the door, would you? It is a bit sensitive."

The first knot of true worry sank into Merlin's stomach. He hesitated a moment, but then obediently shut the door. He could not disobey a direct command from a noble. He turned, back to the door, hands behind his back, the picture of perfect obedience, and waited.

"I want you to steal the Amulet of Arolygaeth from Camelot's vaults."

Merlin froze, his palms turning sweaty. Then he laughed cautiously, but the lord did not join in his laughter. He did, however, allow a cruel smile to tug at his lips. "My lord?" Merlin questioned.

"I want you to steal the Amulet of Arolygaeth from Camelot's vaults," he repeated.

Merlin's eyes narrowed and backed up a step towards the door. "I am sorry, my lord, but I must decline your request."

"It is not a request, it is an order." Merlin watched Nigel carefully. He held no knives, there was no sword at his waste, Merlin could sense no magic (though that didn't necessarily mean he didn't have any) and he didn't seem like the kind to get his hands dirty by enforcing his orders physically. Though, Merlin supposed, he might have someone else do the dirty work.

"And why should I obey this order?" Merlin asked slowly.

"Because," Nigel began, his grin widening as he took several threatening steps forward until he was nearly nose-to-nose with Merlin, "I know who you are, and I know what you are capable of." Merlin could feel his face pale, but he said nothing. That could mean anything—a bluff, even. "Emrys," he finished.

Merlin's blood froze in his veins.

"And if you do _not_ get me this amulet," Nigel continued, taking the servant's silence as confirmation, "I will go to your king and tell him everything. How do you think he'll react? Hm? Knowing that his servant of six years has been hiding such a _dark_ secret? That he has _magic_. That he's probably just trying to weasel his way into court to influence him."

Merlin swallowed hard. "I don't know who Emrys is," he lied.

"No? Oh, well then I must have been mistaken, my apologies." He turned and walked several paces away, Merlin remained tense.

Without warning, Nigel swiveled on the spot and shot a blast of energy in Merlin's direction. Instinctively, Merlin brought up a shield and blocked it.

So the lord had magic after all. The attack barely even phased Merlin, though. Whatever magic Nigel had, it was negligible at best.

Nigel did not seem to mind, however. "No. You don't have _any_ magic," he said sarcastically.

"You report me, I'll report you," Merlin said defiantly, taking a defensive stance, trying not to let his trembling show.

Nigel barked a laugh. "And who's word do you think the court will take? That of a servant, or that of a noble lord?"

"Arthur will believe me," Merlin countered automatically. "And he's the only one who matters."

"You, who are so _loyal_ to Arthur. You'd lie to him so openly? If he asked you directly: 'Merlin, do you have magic?' You'd simply say 'No?'" Merlin didn't answer. He didn't know what he would do if Arthur ever bluntly asked him. "And let's suppose for a moment that you do. Let's even suppose that he believes you, and that I'm executed. Arthur's not the only member of court."

"He's the _king._ He makes the final decisions."

"Arthur's young. He's been king barely a year. His court is still filled with Uther's supporters. No one else at court would ever trust you again. You'd be watched, closely. Maybe even followed. And all it would take would be a single slip up and," he made a slicing motion across his throat. "Some may even go so far as to murder you in a dark corridor, or down in the market, quietly protecting the king from his own naivety. His _inexperience._"

Merlin couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.

Nigel was right.

"I see you're beginning to see things my way. Good." Nigel stepped forward again. Merlin backed up another step and collided with the door, where Nigel placed his hands on either side of his head, seeming to loom over Merlin's crouched form despite his shorter height. "You have one week."

Merlin swallowed thickly again. "You're leaving in two," he pointed out.

Nigel smiled again. "Yes," he confirmed. "But I have plans for my second week. Oh, and one more rule. You'd better not tell anyone about this conversation." He opened the door, and Merlin stumbled into the hallway. "See you at dinner!" he called cheerfully before closing the door in Merlin's face.

**A/N: Dun, dun, _DUN! _Merlin's got himself in a bit of a pickle, hasn't he? Please let me know what you think so far. Like I said in the beginning, writing Gwaine as a fully-fledged character is a bit new to me, so I'd love some comments. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**~Syd**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Glad to see such a great first response to this story! Thanks for all of your support. I shall try my hardest not to disappoint. :)**

**~Syd**

Chapter Two

Merlin ran. He wasn't sure where he was running to or what he would do when he got there, all that registered in his panicked mind was a deep and irrepressible urge to get _away._

By the time he put half the castle between him and Lord Nigel, his brain finally began to catch up with him and he slowed to a stop in the deserted corridor. He looked around him, trying to figure out where his mindless run had brought him, and realized the stairs ahead of him led to the west tower. Lungs protesting the sprint, he walked the remaining distance and ascended the stairs, opening the top door to be greeted by wonderfully fresh air.

The parapet welcomed him as he reached it and leaned against the cold stone, looking blankly out over the city. After a few moments, he turned and slid down the wall until he sank to the ground, knees tucked up in front of him.

This was bad. This was _really_ bad.

Amulet of Arolygaeth.

What it was, Merlin had no idea. But if Nigel wanted it, and was willing to go to such extremes to get it, it could not be good.

And Nigel _knew_. He knew about Merlin. He knew about the magic.

_How did he know?_

Merlin felt sick to his stomach. The little food he'd eaten for lunch threatened to make a reappearance as Merlin took in large gasps of fresh air to try to keep it down.

What was he going to do?

_Kill him,_ a dark voice inside his head said. _He can't talk if he's dead._

He had the power. It would be so easy. He'd killed so many times before. Merlin didn't even think he could count the number of people he had killed by now.

But he had killed them in battle. They'd been threatening him, or Arthur. He'd never had a choice. But did he have a choice now? And Nigel was a noble. His death would certainly be questioned.

Agravaine had been a noble.

Agravaine had already been revealed as a traitor.

But Merlin could hide what he had done. He could kill Nigel quietly. Maybe snap his neck? Then disintegrate the body into dust. Lord Nigel would disappear, no one would ever know what had happened to him. Merlin would never be questioned—he was just a servant. And he had no motive, as far as anyone else knew.

Merlin shuddered at the murderous thoughts.

He couldn't do it. He didn't _want_ to do it. He hated himself already for the many lives he had taken, and they had all been taken for a reason, not for his own cowardice. His soul felt black just thinking it.

And what would happen to Arthur? A noble visits Camelot, under the king's hospitality and protection, and is never heard from again. Arthur's reign was still fresh. People might start to question. How can he keep his kingdom together if he can't even keep one man safe?

He'd figure something else out, Merlin decided. There had to be something he could do. There had to be _something._

But the dark thoughts could not be banished entirely.

.~.

Dinner that night was a terror.

After sitting on top the tower for probably close to two hours, Merlin finally realized how far the sun had lowered, and knew that he was expected to fetch Lord Nigel and guide him to the dining hall. It took a tremendous amount of willpower to force down the panic again and return to Nigel's rooms, constantly reminding himself that Nigel wasn't going to do anything yet. Not for at least one week. Merlin had one week to figure out how to get out of this mess without betraying Camelot.

One of Nigel's servants opened the door when Merlin at last arrived, but Merlin barely even noticed him. His attention was too focused on the man he couldn't quite see.

"Dinner is ready," he stated as calmly as he could. "I am here to guide Lord Nigel to the dining hall."

When the lord casually dismissed his servant, stepped into the hallway, and shut the door behind him, he didn't even mention their rather disconcerting conversation. He merely smiled that fake smile of his, chattered aloud about how honored he was to be dining with the king and queen themselves, and followed Merlin as the not-so-secret warlock led the way.

Now, Merlin stood standing behind Arthur, who sat at the head of the table. Guinevere sat at his right hand, Nigel at his left. Nigel said nothing to Merlin at all, and Merlin tried not to even look at him, but at various intervals, Merlin could feel that horrid gaze boring into him, and it made his palms go sweaty and his knees go weak. These looks had already been the cause of several small spills.

"I mean, the amount of improvement you've made to the kingdom's foreign policies already is just astounding!"

Merlin could feel Arthur's boredom from where he stood. "I am glad you are so pleased," the king answered briefly before finishing off the rest of his wine. "Of course, my father's policies remain the underlying agreement. I have merely built upon them." His voice held just the slightest hint of a warning that Nigel seemed to pick up on.

"Oh yes, your father was truly a great man, and a great king. I simply meant that it is wonderful seeing you so successfully taking his place."

"Arthur has many ideas to further improve the policies," Gwen inserted politely. Merlin sympathized with her. As wonderful and as wise as she was, such strictly formal gatherings she was still not used to. She'd probably be more comfortable standing next to Merlin holding another wine jug. Merlin stepped forward and took Arthur's goblet to refill with wine.

"Yes," Nigel agreed, "I'm sure there are many changes that will be coming to Camelot soon," his eyes landed briefly on Merlin.

The goblet slipped from his fumbled grip and red wine spread over the table. Arthur jumped up to avoid it dripping on his clothes.

"Merlin!" he scolded. "What is wrong with you today, you're even clumsier than usual!"

"Merlin?" Gwen asked, voice filled with concern. Merlin carefully calmed his heartbeat and turned to her.

"I apologize Your Majesty, I am all right, I assure you."

If this had not been a formal setting, Guinevere would have demanded a better answer—for that was obviously fake—but she could do nothing currently, not in front of a visiting noble. Merlin inwardly braced himself for a verbal bashing of concern that he would receive later. As he took a rag and mopped up the spreading liquid, he could feel Arthur's concerned gaze on him as well.

"Merlin, if you're going to keep making a mess of things, go ahead and turn in for the night," Arthur ordered. "We have what we need." Merlin resisted the urge to wince. That was concerned-Arthur trying his best to sound uncaring. He'd have to come up with a reason for his clumsiness by the morning.

Merlin carefully set the jug on the center of the table, bowed, and retreated.

He could feel three sets of eyes follow him all the way out, but most noticeably raising the hair on the back of Merlin's neck were those of Lord Nigel.

.~.

"Have you ever heard of the Amulet of Arolygaeth?"

Gaius, spoon halfway to his mouth, frowned and dropped his spoon back into his soup. "Why do you ask?" he asked suspiciously.

Merlin shrugged, staring into his own bowl. "I read the name in a book, but it didn't tell me what it was." That was, of course a blatant lie. Merlin had spent every spare moment of the last three days in the library, pouring over books and trying to find a single reference to the cursed thing, with absolutely no luck.

He was getting twitchy. Nigel had not yet addressed him since his first threat, but Merlin could feel his impatience.

Gaius continued to eye his ward, trying to discern the lie. "What book?" he asked finally.

"A book in the library. I've been…studying."

"Studying."

"Yes, studying."

Gaius's raised eyebrows remained unrelenting, but Merlin gave no further response, he just ate another bite of his soup. At last, Gaius gave in. "It's an amulet of control, forged by some very dark magic," he said at last.

"What does that mean?"

"It gives the wearer the power to control those around him."

"Control…like physically? Like a puppet? Or more mentally? Like when I took Arthur's wits away temporarily?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Gaius admitted. "All I know is that it was used in a rebellion against Camelot's king nearly 200 years ago. Somehow the rebellion failed, though."

"How?" Merlin asked eagerly, leaning forward. If he could find a way to nullify the amulet's significance…

"I don't know Merlin. The records from that rebellion are scarce, at best. I can only imagine the king at the time did not want anyone else to find out exactly what had happened, for fear someone would try again. No one even knows where the amulet is, anymore."

Merlin started at that. "No one knows?" he asked. Nigel certainly seemed to think he did.

Gaius shook his head. "There is no record of what happened to it after the rebellion. For all anyone knows, it just vanished." Merlin stared thoughtfully into his soup. "Merlin, why are you asking about this amulet?"

Merlin shrugged. "I told you, I just read the name and was curious."

Gaius leaned back in his chair, clearly not believing him, but he said nothing to contradict his ward's words. Instead, he stood up and went to his bookshelf. Several minutes later, he returned and plopped a heavy book down, open, in front of Merlin.

"What's this?" Merlin asked.

"The history of Camelot," Gaius answered, "up until the time Uther conquered the kingdom. This is the only mention of the amulet I've ever come across."

Merlin leaned over the book to see a colorful drawing of the amulet: a dark purple gem set in a round silver disc, covered in unrecognizable markings. "Thank you, Gaius," he muttered, already pouring over the words. Not long later he had already finished the short two pages. They were mainly about the rebellion, not much information on the amulet at all.

But even the little information he had just learned was enough, and Merlin went to bed with his head spinning over the horrendous possibilities.

An amulet that allowed the wearer to control other people? No matter what "control" meant, that was far too dangerous. Merlin shuddered to think what Nigel could do with such power. He could bend Arthur to his will, becoming the true king of Camelot while Arthur remained nothing more than a puppet. Or he could force any one of the knights to simply kill Arthur, if he held some sort of a grudge against the Pendragons. Hey, he could even have Arthur kill _himself._

Merlin's eyes widened and he sat up in bed, a new thought hitting him. Nigel could control _him._ If Nigel had the amulet, it was entirely possible that Merlin, the all-powerful bloody _Emrys_ could become a slave to his will. What could Nigel accomplish with all of Merlin's power at his command?

No. Merlin could never, _never_ give Nigel the amulet. No matter the consequences to himself.

That being said, Merlin was not at all fond of what those consequences could easily be. He _had _to find a way to lessen Nigel's hold over him. But _how?_

.~.

On the morning of the fourth day, Nigel finally cornered him. Arthur's breakfast tray clattered to the ground as Merlin suddenly found himself backed into a wall with a very impatient-looking noble grabbing the front of his shirt and breathing his vile breath into his face.

"You try my patience, boy," Nigel informed him. "Half the week is gone and you've made _no_ move to get the item. Do I need to remind you just how dire of a situation it is that you are in?"

Merlin breathed harshly as the lord's hold on him choked off part of his airway. "It's the vaults of _Camelot_," he managed to respond. "Did you think it would be _easy _to find a way in?"

"You're stalling," Nigel spat back. "And I grow tired of it."

"What do you want me to do?" Merlin demanded. "Just walk straight in and take it?"

"I don't particularly care. Blast the door off its hinges if you'd like. You and I both know you can. Just get. Me. That. Amulet."

Approaching footsteps made the lord drop him like fire and spin away. He was long gone by the time the new person came into view.

When Gwaine rounded the corner and saw Merlin picking up the dropped food, his face split into a grin. "You should be more careful, Merlin. You know how the princess feels about his breakfast." For a brief time, when Arthur had become king, Gwaine had upped the nickname to "Queen," but now that there was an actual queen, he'd returned the jibe to princess to avoid confusion.

When he drew near, Gwaine knelt and helped Merlin replace the remainder of the food on the tray. But he paused and frowned, when he saw the slight tremble of Merlin's hands as he picked up the last sausage.

The knight put a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Merlin what's wrong?"

Merlin did his best to grin and shook his head as he stood up with the tray. "Nothing, I'm just being a clumsy oaf, is all."

Gwaine was not convinced, especially when he then noticed how the usually pale-Merlin was currently downright ashen. "What happened?" he demanded more firmly. "Did someone knock you down on purpose?"

Merlin shrugged his hand off. "I'm fine, Gwaine, really. No one knocked me over, I just tripped. You know me, I do that at least five times a day."

"Merlin—"

"I said I'm fine." The quick response was a little harsher than he had meant it to be, and Gwaine's eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion.

"If you say so," he said at last. He watched Merlin go as he retreated back to the kitchens for a fresh plate of food.

**A/N: Hope you've enjoyed the second chapter! Gwaine will start taking a more prominent role in the next couple chapters, so I hope you're all looking forward to that. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~Syd**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: A few days later than I meant to post this, sorry. As for _Of Walls and Scars,_ don't worry, the next chapter's in the works. I'm just having a bit of trouble with it. It should be up by this weekend.**

**You may have noticed that I've switched the official genre of this fic. It used to be friendship/hurt/comfort, now it's friendship/adventure. The reason for the switch is not really much reason at all. I was debating like crazy where to put this fic when I first posted it, since it's kind of all three categories, and I just simply changed my mind. Nothing has changed with where I'm taking this fic, all is still going according to plan. So no worries. :)**

**~Syd**

Chapter Three

Merlin was still slightly shaken by the time the afternoon rolled around, and he realized that he had to do something to show Nigel that he was making progress—even if he wasn't. So he came up with a desperate plan that had the slightest possibility of working.

He caught Gwaine in the armory, where the knight was just gearing up for some individual training. The moment he caught sight of Merlin, he paused, and put a smile on his face that obviously did not reach his eyes. He clearly had not forgotten that morning.

"Hey Merlin. Here to clean the princess's armor or sharpen his sword?"

"Oil his crossbow, actually," Merlin replied absent-mindedly as he carefully scanned the armory. "Is anyone else here?"

Gwaine, who still hadn't moved towards the training fields, despite obviously having finished suiting up, shook his head. "Nope," he answered. "I guess the other knights have decided it's not worth it to try to outshine me anymore. They obviously can't, after all." He continued to study Merlin, who was paying him little attention other than to give a small nod in acknowledgement. Instead, he walked passed the rows of equipment, making absolutely sure there was no one else there. He then checked the back door, opening it to make sure no one was behind it, then shutting it and making sure it latched properly before turning to face Gwaine again.

"I need to tell you something."

Gwaine, the picture of seriousness, set his sword down and walked up to his friend, who still stood with his back pressed against the door. "Does this have anything to do with this morning?" he asked.

Merlin ignored the question. "Tonight, someone is going to attempt to break into the vaults."

Gwaine's eyes widened at the information. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

He continued to study the servant. "And how did you find this out?"

Merlin shook his head. "That's not important."

"It is if—"

"Gwaine," Merlin interrupted. The knight fell silent, and Merlin licked his dry lips, knowing he was not going to like this next statement at all. "_No_ one can know that I told you this. Do you understand?"

Sure enough, his eyebrows narrowed immediately. "Merlin, if you're in trouble—"

"_No one,"_ Merlin interrupted again. "Promise me."

"Is someone threatening you?"

"_Promise me," _Merlin repeated, brow beginning to sweat now. This was a dangerous move he was making in an even more dangerous game. It was certainly not a good idea to put Gwaine on high alert, but it was the only move Merlin could see that might end up with his head on his shoulders.

Or his flesh on his bones, he thought with a shudder, picturing the pyre. Gods he really didn't want to burn.

Gwaine clearly saw the distraught look on his face. "I promise," he assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "And I'll personally guard the vaults tonight. I'll drag Percival with me."

A smile tucked at the corner of Merlin's mouth, easing a tiny bit of the tension in Gwaine's gut. "Is he talking to you again, then? Itching powder wore off?"

Gwaine shrugged. "He got me back yesterday when he put eggs in my boots, so it's my move now, anyway."

Merlin's smile widened slightly. "Thank you, Gwaine."

"You're really not going to tell me anything, are you?"

His smile faltered and he sadly shook his head. "Sorry. Just…trust me."

"Always have," Gwaine said immediately. He then removed his training gloves and padding and replaced them in storage. He had a giant to find.

He glanced over his shoulder as he left to see Merlin pulling out Arthur's crossbow and his oiling gear, taking a seat to work on his chore.

It took him a bit of time to track Percival down. Eventually, after several inquiries, Gwaine's search led him to the stables where the knight was brushing his horse down. He didn't need to, of course, there were stable hands responsible for caring for all of their horses—except for the royal horses, they were Merlin's job—but Percival liked the personal touch with his mount. Gwaine approved.

"Percy!" Gwaine called loudly. "You are a hard man to find, sometimes, do you know that?"

Percival turned around instantly and Gwaine could see the suspicion in his gaze.

Gwaine rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, Percy. Do you really think I'd be so underhanded as to ambush you after starting such a friendly conversation?"

"Yes," Percival said immediately with a smile.

Gwaine stared for a moment, then grinned in return. "Fair enough," he finally responded. But then his grin faded and a much more rare seriousness took its place on his face. "But I'm not here to prank you. I actually need your help."

Percival frowned, and Gwaine could tell the larger knight wasn't entirely sure if he should believe him or not. Gwaine stepped forward anyway. No one else was here, but no use taking unnecessary chances by speaking any louder than he had to.

"I need someone to guard the vaults with me tonight," Gwaine said, keeping an eye on the door.

Percival's eyes narrowed in further suspicion. "Why?" he asked at last.

"I received a tip that someone's going to try to break in."

"So why don't you tell Arthur?"

Gwaine sighed. "Look, I think the person who told me is in trouble. He's…uncharacteristically jumpy about this. And the more people who know about this..."

"Might put him in more danger?" Percival guessed, ever astute.

Gwaine nodded and put a hand on his shoulder. "I swear this is not a prank."

"Who's your source?"

Gwaine shook his head firmly. "I can't tell you."

Percival sighed, all trace of suspicion leaving his face. "All right. Count me in. When do you want to take up post?"

"I'm thinking about an hour before dark."

"See you then."

.~.

About an hour before midnight, Merlin glanced around from his hiding place. Gwaine had come through (as Merlin hadn't really doubted.) He and Percival sat on a couple of barrels outside the vault's only gate, swords strapped to their wastes and a few lit torches on the wall.

He tucked his head back from around the corner, back against the wall as he tried to force his frantic heartbeat to slow to a more comfortable pace—without much success. His breathing was a bit more easily controlled. With a couple of deep breaths, he peaked his head around the corner again, taking advantage of the shadows, while the knights' light would make it difficult for them to see into the darkness.

A normal thief would have simply walked away, seeing the gate guarded. But Merlin needed to make this convincing.

With a flash of golden eyes, Merlin sent a pebble down the dark corridor off to the left. Both knights' heads whipped in that direction. Gwaine stood immediately and drew his sword. But no sound followed.

"It was just a rat, or something," Percival commented.

"Maybe." When Gwaine turned his eyes away again, Merlin tossed the pebble again with another mental flick. Gwaine took one of the torches down from the wall and made his way down the corridor, torch in one hand sword in the other. As predicted, however, the light revealed no one hiding in the shadows.

With a mental apology, Merlin took a slight mental hold on Gwaine's foot just as he was about to take another step, making him trip forward with a slight cry of surprise. Merlin then extinguished his torch, leaving him in the darkness.

Percival was on his feet instantly, grabbed a second torch, and sprinted down the corridor, as Merlin snuck up from his hiding place towards the bars for a better position for this last spell. He extinguished the last remaining torch, leaving the only light in Percival's hands.

"_Dotgloi," _he whispered immediately. When the lock clicked open, Merlin used a wave of his magic and loudly yanked the door open, then slammed it shut.

Immediately the two knights returned, Percival in the lead, yanking the door open just as Merlin disappeared once more around the corner and ran as fast as he could manage silently.

Percival entered the vault, clearly thinking the intruder must have run inside to find whatever it was they were looking for—the vaults were rather large, after all—but Gwaine, wondering who on earth would have entered the vault so _loudly_, instinctively looked around instead. As he did, he barely caught a glimpse of a dark head disappearing into the shadows and around the corner—a rather familiar dark head.

Gwaine frowned.

"I don't see anyone," Percival called, still waving his torch around. Gwaine glanced back at his friend briefly before returning his stare to the shadows. At last, he turned and joined Percival in the vaults. "Someone was here, though," Percival commented. "Maybe the gate slipped and they ran away when it clanged?"

"Maybe…" Gwaine said.

"Think we should sound the alarm?"

Gwaine carefully thought through what he knew, what he suspected, and what he guessed would happen as a result of either choice.

"Yes," he said at last. "Let's sound the alarm for an intruder."

.~.

Gwaine fidgeted from his position on the cold stone, his legs beginning to cramp up.

That night, predictably, no intruder had been found anywhere in the castle. When the search had at last been called off, Arthur had left half a dozen men to guard the vaults before pulling Gwaine and Percival aside.

"What were you two even doing here?" He asked.

"Gwaine—"

"Pulling a prank on Percy here," Gwaine interrupted. Percival raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Arthur, eyes on Gwaine, didn't notice. He did, however, scowl.

"You know I don't particular like this prank war the two of you have going on," he scolded.

Gwaine merely laughed and put an arm around the king's shoulders. "Ah, but if it wasn't for this prank war, who would have noticed the intruder?" he asked logically. "And who knows what they would have taken? There's all kinds of dangerous stuff in there. As far as you know, our prank war could have just saved all of Camelot."

Arthur's scowl deepened. "You're just lucky you haven't done anything _too _serious that would require me to put a stop to it."

"Ah, princess, luck has nothing to do with it."

"_As it is,"_ Arthur continued, purposefully ignoring the interruption. "Thank you for sounding the alarm. You're right, who knows what they would have taken had you not been here."

As Gwaine and Percival walked away, the larger of the two knights again raised his eyebrows at Gwaine. "You're still not going to tell him?"

"The less people who know—"

"The safer your informant," Percival finished. He sighed. "All right, I'll keep quiet. But only because I like Merlin."

Gwaine nearly choked and stopped dead. "W—I never said—"

"No," Percival answered with a sly smile. "But you only ever get this protective over one person."

Gwaine sighed, and lowered his voice significantly. "He told me in the strictest confidence," he informed him.

"I know. Don't worry, I won't breathe a word. But maybe you should find out exactly what's going on."

"Oh, I intend to."

And that is how Gwaine came to be where he was now sitting—in an empty alcove, down the corridor from the physician's chambers. He'd been there since he and Percival had parted ways, knowing Merlin would have returned home after the previous night's…incident. Merlin had no intention of telling Gwaine what was really going on. Well, that was fine. Gwaine had his own methods.

So when the sun finally peaked through the castle's windows and Merlin at last emerged from his rooms, Gwaine silently followed him down to the kitchens and waited just outside until he returned with a tray full of food.

If he had to follow Merlin all damn day to get to the bottom of this, he sure as hell would.

And after four hours of stalking Merlin through his chores, Gwaine was beginning to wonder if it really would be all day long.

So far Merlin had brought Arthur and Gwen their breakfast, left with the laundry, gone to the stables to muck out the royal stalls, and had spent close to two hours in the cursed dusty library pouring over books. Gwaine remained crouched behind a bookshelf, growing seriously bored, not even able to see _what_ Merlin was researching, when the man in question angrily slammed a particularly fat volume shut. He then looked out the window to check to the position of the sun, replaced his many books on the shelves, and quietly exited the library, Gwaine still at his heels.

Then, at last, something happened.

Gwaine stopped before he rounded the last corner Merlin had just disappeared behind when he heard a strangled cry of surprise and a small thump that sounded like a body being slammed against a wall.

"Do you take me for a fool, boy!" an angry voice hissed. It was whispered, but the venom and ferocity was clear.

"N—no my lord!" Gwaine clenched his fists at Merlin's frightened voice, eager to step around and stop…_this._ Whatever _this_ was. But at last it seemed he might find out just what was going on, and so he waited. If this got dangerous, he was only a few feet away.

"The whole castle is positively buzzing with the news of last night's 'intruder.' The king ordered the vaults constantly watched! This is _your_ doing!" Gwaine at last recognized that voice. It was that slimy lord who was visiting. Lord Nigel.

"I did what you asked!" Merlin protested. "I tried to get into the vaults, but there were two knights there. What do you _expect _me to do? I _told_ you the vaults are too difficult to break into!"

"I'll bet you_ told_ them to guard the gate, didn't you? So you could come crawling back to me with excuses."

"I didn't. Tell. Anyone," Merlin lied. "It's just not possible. I can't get you the amulet."

"Well, whether you told anyone or not, you're little slip up last night might just be your undoing. I don't care how well guarded the gate is now. Get me that amulet by the end of the week, or all of Camelot will know your little secret. Understand?"

"If I just had more time—" a loud slapping sound reached Gwaine's ears, along with a cry of pain.

"No more time, no more excuses."

Gwaine silently leapt up the set of spiral stairs to his left as Nigel dropped Merlin and took the few steps around the corner. Gwaine held his breath as the lord passed. Slowly, he heard Merlin regain his feet and continue on in the direction he'd been going when Nigel interrupted.

Well, Gwaine thought, at least now he had an idea of what was going on. He'd been right. Merlin _had_ been the intruder that night. The man was being blackmailed.

But what secret could Merlin _possibly_ have that was strong enough to bring about events like…_this?_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Gwaine chose his moment carefully, not wanting to chance anyone else overhearing this conversation, certain that Merlin would have told no one what was going on. So when that night he heard that Gaius was attending to a woman in the lower town who was having a difficult birthing, Gwaine seized his opportunity.

Bracing himself, he slowly opened the door without knocking.

Merlin's eyes flew to the door from his place at the table across the room, relaxing only slightly when he saw Gwaine. He carefully closed the book in front of him.

"Hi Gwaine," he said, putting on a smile that looked much too forced. "If one of Percival's pranks went wrong, Gaius isn't here," he informed the knight.

Gwaine chuckled and shut the door behind him. "I'm not here for Gaius," he admitted, and crossed the room. "I'm actually here to talk to you." Merlin's brow furrowed just slightly, revealing his otherwise very well-concealed worry.

"I'm all ears."

Gwaine put his hands on the table and leaned over the wood. "What does Lord Nigel have on you?"

Merlin visibly jumped in his seat. "W—what?" he managed.

"What does Lord Nigel have on you?" Gwaine repeated patiently, resigning himself to the fact that this was going to take some work. "And don't try to deny it. I heard him threaten you today."

Merlin shakily got to his feet. "Gwaine, don't be ridiculous. He doesn't—I mean, it's not what it sounded like. He's just a stupid stuck up noble who's trying to mess with the king's servant. It's nothing."

"It didn't sound like nothing," Gwaine countered. "It sounded like he was blackmailing you. Plus, you have a rather nasty looking cut on the side of your face, or hadn't you realized?" Merlin's hand went up to trace the cut. Gwaine could guess what it was from. He'd heard the lord backhand him across the face. The stupid noble had probably been wearing a ring when he did it.

"Gwaine, just—I can handle it, all right? Don't worry. It's really not serious."

"Merlin_,_" Gwaine said firmly, "you know you can trust me, don't you?"

Merlin shook his head, but not in denial. "You _know_ I trust you Gwaine, but it really is nothing." His refusal to meet the knight's eyes told an entirely different story.

"If it's nothing, then tell me what's going on."

"_Gwaine._"

Gwaine was unrelenting. He took a seat at the table. Determined not to leave without an answer. "He's making you steal some sort of amulet from the vaults," Gwaine started, saying aloud the pieces he had slowly gathered in his head. "And I _saw_ you last night, by the way. I know _you_ were the 'intruder' you warned me about. You _wanted_ to make a scene last night. You wanted him to know that you had tried, and failed." That's why he had sounded the alarm.

Merlin remained silent, but picked up a broom and began sweeping to give his white-knuckled hands something to do.

"Merlin," Gwaine implored. He waited until Merlin slowly lifted his eyes to meet his. "How can I help you if you don't tell me what's going on?" Merlin, tight-lipped, merely shook his head, shoulders tense. "What does Nigel have on you?" Gwaine repeated.

"Damn it, Gwaine!" Merlin finally shouted. "I can't _tell _you!"

At least now they were getting somewhere, Gwaine thought. "Why not?" he asked reasonably. "I'd never breathe a word," he swore.

"It's not _about_ that!" Merlin countered, allowing the broom to drop from his hand as he began to angrily pace. "This has nothing to do with trusting you."

"Then why can't you tell me?"

"Because it's too dangerous!" Merlin shouted, glaring at the knight.

"Because of what he'll do to you if he finds out you told me?" Gwaine guessed.

"No!" Merlin turned away from him abruptly and took two paces away before rounding on him again. "It's too dangerous for _you!"_

Surprise hit Gwaine like a rock. He was silent for several long moments, processing this new bit of information. "I can take care of myself, Merlin," he said at last. "Don't worry about me."

"You don't get it," Merlin finally whispered. "You really don't get it."

"No, I don't," Gwaine agreed, a hint of impatience growing in his own voice. "Because you won't _tell_ me. Let me worry about myself. Let me _help _you!"

"There's only _one_ person who knows!" Merlin finally spat out. "And do you know what happened to him? He got kidnapped and tortured because of it! Do you _still_ want to know?" he demanded.

Horror wrapped around Gwaine's heart like ice. It could not be a coincidence. There was only one person they both knew who had been recently abducted. "That's why Gaius was taken, wasn't it?" he asked softly.

Merlin hung his head in defeat, but didn't answer the question. "It's too dangerous," he whispered again. He raised his head again and met Gwaine's eyes in desperation. "_No_ one can know. Please…"

Gwaine stood and slowly stepped forward, feeling like he was approaching a deer who might spook at any moment. He placed his hands on Merlin's shoulders. "Merlin," he said slowly. "If you really just don't trust me, I can accept that. We'll…figure something out. I don't have to know. But if you really are just trying to protect me," he paused, making sure he had Merlin's attention, "you have to let _me_ make that choice. I _choose_ to help you, Merlin. I don't care how dangerous it is. I want to help you. Please let me."

Merlin spun away from his grip, walking several feet away to stare out the window at the dark courtyard below for what seemed like minutes, but was probably only a few seconds. He then spun around again and placed his hands on the table, staring silently down at the unlit candle on the wood's surface, jaw tight as thoughts churned through his head.

Gwaine leaned forward, resting his hands on the other side of the table, simply waiting.

The wait stretched on, and gradually, Gwaine came to the conclusion that Merlin wasn't going to speak. He had made his choice. Gwaine felt the pit of his stomach sink slightly. Maybe Merlin really just didn't trust him, after all.

"Ok," Gwaine said at last, letting his eyes sink to the table as he heaved a great sigh. "Ok..."

"_Forbearne."_

The candle between them flickered to life, and Gwaine jumped backwards in shock. When at last he managed to pull his eyes away from the innocently flickering light to look at Merlin, he met a pair of careful, dark eyes that were studying him carefully.

Slowly, his eyes sunk back to the candle, and he stepped up to the table again. He raised a hand, but hesitated, glancing uncertainly at Merlin, but he didn't so much as twitch, just continued to stare. So Gwaine hesitantly brought his hand closer to the flame.

The warmth was real. The fire was_ real._

And it had just sprung to life from nothing but a word.

A word that _Merlin_ had uttered. A strange, foreign word that no one in Camelot had any business knowing.

"You…" Gwaine began, but he couldn't complete his sentence, he could only continue to stare. At last, he became aware of just how tense Merlin was, so the knight swallowed hard. "You have magic," he managed at last.

Merlin still did not answer. He just stood there, in the same position, eyes boring holes into who he hoped was still his friend.

Then Gwaine's eyes widened as realization hit him. "Oh bloody hell," he suddenly exclaimed. Merlin winced. "_This_ is what that piece of scum has on you?"

Merlin lowered his gaze and heaved a great sigh. "Now you know how dangerous this is," he said softly.

"Merlin…" Gwaine began, but paused. "This is_ bad," _he finally surmised.

Merlin snorted. "I hadn't realized," he said sarcastically.

Gwaine slowly stepped around the table. Merlin flinched as though expecting a blow, but otherwise did not move, he merely continued to watch Gwaine with careful, guarded eyes. Gently, Gwaine put a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "We'll figure this out, Merlin," he said at last.

Merlin's eyes suddenly looked a little too moist for Gwaine's comfort. "You don't hate me?" he managed thickly.

Gwaine dropped his hand. "Hate you?" he repeated, as though he had misheard. "Merlin, if it wasn't for Nigel, I'd think this was a bloody brilliant joke! Why are you always traipsing after Arthur, cleaning his dirty socks and scrubbing his floors if you can just flick your fingers and get them done like that?" he snapped his fingers for emphasis.

A relieved smile formed on Merlin's face as he let out the breath he'd been holding. "Well, I do flick my fingers sometimes," Merlin admitted with a slightly sly grin that was much more befitting on him than such fear and doubt, in Gwaine's opinion.

Gwaine paused. "Why was Gaius abducted?" he asked suddenly, that piece not quite making sense to him.

Merlin hesitated. "I…have another name," he admitted at length. "Someone was looking for me, and suspected that Gaius knew who I was."

Gwaine slowly nodded. "What's your name?" he asked finally.

Merlin groaned, knowing that had been coming. "I'm not going to tell you," he said firmly. Gwaine glared at him, but Merlin simply glared back. "No, Gwaine. There's no point in you knowing. It's certainly not going to help this situation any."

At last Gwaine rolled his eyes. "Fine," he muttered.

"And my name _is_ Merlin," he assured him. "The other name…it's more like a title, really."

Gwaine nodded his understanding, then suddenly rubbed his hands together. "So! Down to business. First obvious solution: why don't you turn Lord Dirt-face into a toad?"

A smile tucked at Merlin's lips again. "I don't know any transfiguration spells strong enough," he informed him. "Although I did once manage to turn a stone statue into a living dog…"

Gwaine's eyes widened. "You _did?_"

"Yes, but in any case. Even if I _could_ turn Nigel into a toad, people would notice if a visiting noble suddenly vanished off the face of the planet."

"So who cares?"

"Uh, Arthur, for one."

"Arthur hates this guy, and you know it."

"Yes, but it would cause too many problems in the court."

Gwaine groaned. "I hate politics. Fine. No toads." He paused shortly. "And I'm assuming just _giving _this guy the stupid amulet is out of the question?"

Merlin's eyes darkened. "Definitely," he said at last. "That thing is way too dangerous in the wrong hands. In _any_ hands, really. It's made up of very dark magic."

"What's it do?"

"I'm still trying to find out exactly," Merlin admitted. He pulled a book off Gaius's shelf and opened it on the table, showing Gwaine a picture of a purple and silver amulet.

"Are-ollie-geth," Gwaine sounded out carefully.

"Arolygaeth," Merlin corrected. "Somehow it allows the wearer to control other people."

Gwaine whistled. "Ok. No giving the bad guy the evil mind-controlling device. Got it. What if you just told Arthur?"

A deep sorrow filled Merlin's eyes. "I can't," he said at last.

Gwaine paused for a long time, hating the desperation in Merlin's face. "You know," he said at last, unusually reasonable, "Arthur's not the same as his father. _You_ taught me that."

"I know. It's just…it isn't time yet."

"How do you know?"

"It's a long story," Merlin admitted, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Full of prophecies, and destiny, and what not. When I tell Arthur..." he sighed. "The timing has to be perfect. And…" his eyes darkened again, "there's a lot I'll need to tell him, besides just the magic. And I'm not ready for that yet."

"All right," Gwaine accepted. "Then we just tell him that this guy is scum and that he was the intruder last night. That's more or less true."

Merlin shook his head. "You know what Nigel will do if we do that."

Gwaine groaned again. "Fine! Then we tell Arthur that Nigel is threatening to _accuse_ you of magic if you don't steal for him. He doesn't need to know the accusation is true."

Merlin shook his head again. He'd already thought of that during his first uncomfortable conversation with Nigel. "There are too many of Uther's followers in Arthur's court right now," he repeated Nigel's reasoning. "They'd never take the word of a servant over a noble. It wouldn't matter what Arthur believed or what he decided. I'd never be safe again."

"I'm a noble," Gwaine pointed out.

"Who used to be a commoner. Well…as far as people know," Merlin added as an afterthought.

Gwaine slowly let out a sigh, realizing the truth of the statement. Even if he came clean and admitted to his noble heritage, the "convenience" of such a revelation in the face of Merlin's predicament would not exactly be convincing.

An uncomfortable thought intruded on Gwaine's brain. "We could kill him," he said softly.

Merlin froze, but didn't respond for a long time. After all, he had thought the same thing. "Same problem as the toad," he muttered at last.

"No," Gwaine countered. "He wouldn't disappear, he'd just die. You could…stop his heart or something. Make it look natural." He studied Merlin carefully, but Merlin slowly shook his head.

"Gwaine…" he said at last. "I…can't."

A small bubble of tension popped in Gwiane's stomach and he let out a relieved breath he hadn't been aware of holding, and a soft smile. That's the Merlin he knew.

"All right," Gwaine said as the silence became almost awkward. "What do you plan to do?" he asked at last.

Merlin slumped, but didn't answer. He merely shook his head.

"You could run," Gwaine pointed out. "Leave Camelot. It wouldn't matter _what_ Nigel said if you're just not here." Merlin shook his head again. "I'd come with you."

Merlin's eyes snapped up to meet Gwaine's. "You'd come with me?" he repeated. Gwaine nodded, his own eyes never leaving Merlin's. "But…but you _like_ it here."

"The reason I came to Camelot in the first place was because _you_ needed help, Merlin," Gwaine pointed out. "I'd be happy to leave it for the same reason."

A genuine smile lit Merlin's face, but his eyes remained rather sad. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "You have no idea what that means to me. But I can't leave, either. You see…I'm not really just Arthur's servant."

Gwaine's eyebrows twitched. "Then what are you?"

"I'm more like his body guard," Merlin explained. "You have no idea how many times I've saved that prat's life when he didn't even realize he was in danger. It's my _duty_ to protect him."

Gwaine paused for a moment. "This is another long story, isn't it?" he asked at last.

"Unfortunately, I have a lot of those."

"So what do we do now?"

Merlin tapped the wood under his hand with his fingernails. "I do have one idea, but it's…a bit tricky." Gwaine made a slight gesture with his hand for Merlin to continue. "I'm going to try to alter Nigel's memory."

**A/N: Yay! Merlin has a plan! Now some of you might be thinking that's a bit of a convenient solution. But I assure you, altering memories is _much_ more complicated than you might think. (At least in my version it is.) So no, this is far from an easy, convenient solution for him to hatch up. ;)**

**Originally, this chapter was much longer than it is now. But then I realized just how long it was getting and had to split it, and this was the best place. So you'll find out more about Merlin's new plan next chapter. The good news, though, is that next chapter is already partially written because of that!**

**Thanks for reading! As always, I would love comments.**

**~Syd**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Wow. I fail. Sorry guys. In my defense, I'm in the process of moving back down for school. I am surrounded by boxes, _just _got internet (officially! As of today!), and am going quite properly insane. Things should mellow out soon, though :)**

**~Syd**

Chapter Five

"I'm going to try to alter Nigel's memory."

Gwaine stared at him for two heartbeats, blinking dumbly. "You can do that?" he asked at last.

"Maybe," Merlin responded.

"Well why didn't you suggest that in the first place!"

"Memory spells are tricky," Merlin explained. "I can't just _erase_ his memory of me. I'd have to erase every memory he has that is even remotely related to me. I couldn't just erase memories of my magic, because that's too entwined with his perspective of me. And I have no idea how long he's known or how he found out, so I have no idea what _other_ memories are tangled up in that mess, too. You'd be amazed how so many unrelated memories get wrapped into relevant ones. If I even miss any of _those_, it could still spell disaster."

Gwaine nodded slowly. It sort of made sense. "But you can do something?" he asked.

Merlin hesitated again, hand partially raised over the table, then suddenly shrugged and opened the book he'd been reading when Gwaine entered. Gwaine squinted down at the pages as Merlin flipped through them, and his eyes widened when he saw various strange, foreign words and stranger symbols. "Is that…a magic book?" he asked at last.

Merlin chuckled lightly at his friend's open fascination. "Yes." At last he came to the page he was looking for. "And it has some information about memory spells."

Gwaine came around the table so they were looking at the book from the same angle. "So what _can_ you do?" he asked.

"It's easier to redirect memories than to completely erase them," Merlin said, then paused. "Well…easier is a very relative term."

"Redirect them. What does that mean?"

"It means I tie his memories of me to something else entirely. Make him…see me how I want him to see me."

Gwaine paused. "Why does _that_ work but simply erasing them doesn't? You still don't know what memories he has of you."

Merlin searched for the right way to explain. The way the book explained it would not make any sense to the knight. "Think of all your memories as individual strings, crisscrossing in your mind. To erase someone's memory, I…snip all the relevant strings. But that can sometimes be a lot of snipping, and a lot of things get tangled up in the relevant memories, and I'd have to cut them too. And if I miss just one, and he recalls that memory, well…the strings are still _there._ They've just been severed and are…dangling amidst the undamaged memories, and they can still be re-knit.

"But _altering_ his memories…it's more like taking those strings, implanting _new_ strings, and tying them in a giant knot so he can't tell what's real and what's not."

"But he'll still have the memories of your magic?" Gwaine asked, confused as to just how much this would help them.

"In a manner of speaking. But if I, say, give him memories of _everyone_ in Camelot having magic, and possibly sprouting wings…"

Gwaine's eyebrows rose, now thoroughly confused.

Merlin sighed. "I haven't worked out the details yet, ok?" he defended. "But basically, I'm going to make him think my magic was part of a crazy dream by tying that knowledge with even crazier fake knowledge. Then I'll implant everyday ordinary fake memories of me that will seem far more real."

There was a long moment of silence that stretched between them as Gwaine processed that. "This is _really_ complicated, isn't it?"

"Oh. Yes."

"All right," he paused again. "So. What can I do to help?"

"I'll need some supplies, but for now," he glanced out the window, noting the position of the moon. "It's late," he said at last. "Now we get some sleep. We still have three days left. An extra night isn't going to make a difference."

Gwaine hated leaving such a dangerous problem unsolved, but Merlin was right. Plus, he had a lot to think about. It would do them both some good to get some sleep.

"All right," he said at length, not really liking it. He looked up at his friend. "And Merlin, when this is all over, you're telling me every one of those really long stories. Deal?" His trademark mischievous grin spread over his face.

Merlin's mouth slowly stretched in a mirrored grin. "Deal," he agreed. "And Gwaine?" the knight paused on his way out. "Thank you. For…well."

Gwaine merely smiled softly, then left. He passed a very tired looking Gaius on his way out.

.~.

"Do you have to stir it a special way? Like a certain direction? Or a certain number of times? Or a certain speed? Or—"

Merlin closed his eyes against his annoyance. These insistent questions were becoming ridiculous. "Yes, Gwaine," he lied, knowing it didn't matter at all. "Everything has to be perfect. So I need to concentrate."

The knight took the hint and shut up. For a moment.

"Are you incanting a spell in your mind?"

Merlin couldn't take it anymore. He released the stirring spoon and placed his hands on either side of the pot, closing his eyes again. "Gwaine," he said through gritted teeth.

"Sorry," Gwaine said for the millionth time, sounding sincerely sheepish.

Merlin sighed. "No," he countered, "I'm sorry. I'm just…not used to people hovering nearby while I do these things."

Gwaine started for a moment, then his mouth opened in a silent _oh_ as realization dawned. "What about Gaius?" he asked at last. "He knows. Don't you ever do…_this_…around him?

"Sometimes," Merlin admitted. "But more often than not I don't tell him what I'm doing. Usually because it's dangerous and I don't want him to worry."

"Does he know about Nigel?"

"No," was the immediate answer. "And I don't want him to."

"Right. Is that why you're making this potion in the middle of Uther's bedroom?"

Merlin shrugged. "No one ever comes in here. Not even Arthur." Indeed, there was a layer of dust on everything. There weren't even any servants to come in and wipe the dust away, since there really wasn't a need anymore. Uther was dead and they'd certainly never place a guest in here. "Ironically, it's probably the safest place to perform magic in the entire castle, right now."

Gwaine shrugged as well. "I still can't get over it," he admitted.

"What?"

Gwaine simply gestured mutely to Merlin as he struggled for the correct description. "_You,_" he finally managed. "And magic."

Merlin grinned again. "So what all have you figured out so far?" he asked. At Gwaine's immediate return grin, he knew he'd been right. Gwaine really had been up all night, racking his brain over the time they'd known each other, trying to put the puzzle pieces together.

"The fire's the first thing I figured out," he confessed. "With that slave trader, when Arthur and I were trying and failing miserably to think of a plan while dueling each other."

Merlin's grin broadened. "Yup. That was me."

"And conveniently falling tree branches."

"Yes again."

"Enemies dropping their weapons for no apparent reason."

"Yes."

"And the wyverns that happened to lose interest in us when you and I went after Arthur and his_ stupid_ quest for that trident?"

"Um…Yes. That, too."

Gwaine studied Merlin for another long moment. "You know the thing that blows my mind the most?" he inquired. When Merlin merely tipped his head to the side in answering question, he continued, "that I'm sure there are an infinite number of _more_ instances that I didn't even notice _anything_ odd."

Merlin shrugged. "Well, I've gotten pretty good at hiding things over the years."

"I can imagine."

Merlin's smile faded slightly as he remembered the reason they were here to begin with. "When this is all over, I promise I'll tell you everything."

"_Everything?"_ Gwaine demanded.

Merlin hesitated, knowing what Gwaine was referring to. He wanted to know Merlin's second name, and everything that went with that. Was there really any point to keeping him in the dark about that? Merlin had to wonder.

"Yes," he finally answered. "I'll tell you everything."

That seemed to satisfy the knight. "Great! So…in the meantime, is there anything _I _can do while you finish this up? So I'm not..."

"Hovering?" Merlin answered with another grin.

"Yes, that. Well?"

"As a matter of fact there is. Can you lend me your knife?"

Gwaine, confused, obediently pulled the blade from his waist and handed it over, watching the warlock in front of him curiously as Merlin carefully cut a lock of his hair and let it drop into the green liquid in front of him. Then Merlin's eyes grew dark as he focused on the potion. "This time, I really do need to concentrate," he informed Gwaine.

In answer, Gwaine merely nodded and took a few steps back—determined not to let a sound pass his lips.

Merlin held his hand over the liquid and began to chant, slowly and softly. Gwaine couldn't make out the words he was saying—not that any of them would make sense to him even if he could. But he definitely could make out the gold glimmer in Merlin's eyes and had to hold his breath again at the open display of magic.

This was definitely going to take some getting used to. But it was so _exciting! _Treasonous, but exciting. He bit back a grin at the thought of the illegality of what they were doing.

It did not take long for Merlin to finish whatever spell he had cast on the potion, but when his eyes faded back to blue, Gwaine still didn't want to speak first. It had taken Gwaine the better part of the day to gather the herbs that Merlin needed for this, as the warlock couldn't risk leaving without drawing Nigel's attention. And it had taken Merlin the better part of the afternoon to put the ingredients together properly, ducking his afternoon chores from Arthur in order to do it. Gwaine, for his part, had also ducked training. But in his opinion, that was just an added bonus.

Merlin heaved a sigh, and pulling out a vial, dropped it into the liquid to fill it, wiping the outside of the bottle clean with a rag and putting a stopper in place.

"All right. I think it's done."

Gwaine came forward and studied the vial, discerning absolutely nothing magical about it.

"So how do you plan to get Lord Scum to drink it?"

.~.

Turned out, getting Lord Scum to drink the potion was far easier than either of them had anticipated. That night, Nigel dined with Arthur again. It was easy enough for Gwaine to flirt with the maid carrying the pitcher and goblets to the dining hall, teasingly taking the tray out of her hands and swirling it out of her reach. As she blushed and hid her face in her hands, Gwaine tipped the contents of the tiny vial into one of the cups, kissed the fair maiden's hand, and was on his merry way. She never noticed the small addition to her load.

So when she passed the tray off to the king's personal manservant—who had remained in the hall under the _very_ watchful eye of Lord Nigel the entire time—Merlin poured the wine into the three goblets and served first the king and queen, and then handed the proper cup to the visiting noble.

Still, Merlin heaved a silent sigh of relief when Nigel finished his wine, and no suspicious gaze flickered his way.

The next morning, Merlin stood outside Nigel's room, heart pumping far more rapidly than usual.

It was good, he considered, that he mostly only had to deal with Nigel in the mornings. Unless there was another formal setting like dinner with the king that he had to guide the lord to and from and serve throughout, (or unless Nigel came and threatened him again), Nigel mainly used his own servant throughout the day. He just required Merlin in the mornings to tell him if he would be needed otherwise—and to check up with him about an illegal amulet, of course.

But each morning that had been far too little a comfort. And this morning it was less comfort than usual, thinking about how angry Nigel would be if his potion had not worked and the lord noticed the…unusualness of various, confused memories.

He took a deep breath, then hesitantly knocked.

"Yes, yes, come in," was the muffled response from behind the door. Merlin obediently pushed the door open. "Merlin, my boy!" Nigel greeted pleasantly. "Ever on time. Our Majesty has a good manservant in you, doesn't he?"

Merlin said nothing, keeping his head bowed respectably as he placed the tray of food on the table. He waited for Nigel to say something about the amulet, or magic, or just some general threats, but the lord took no notice of him. He simply sat down to his breakfast and began to eat.

"Will that be all, my lord?" Merlin asked, trying not to sound nervous or hopeful.

"Yes, yes," Nigel waved him off distractedly. "But please return at the first hour passed midday. The king has invited me to observe the knights training today, and my servant will have other things to attend to at that time."

"Yes, my lord." Merlin waited another small moment before making his way to the door. He paused once on his way out, looking over his shoulder, but Nigel paid him no mind, so he left.

Immediately, Gwaine stepped out of his hiding place. He'd refused to let Merlin handle this on his own—just in case. And now he stood in front of the warlock, eyes raised questioningly.

"I…think it worked," Merlin said at last.

Gwaine nearly whooped in triumph, but remembered how close they still were to the lord's chambers and thought better of it. Instead, a broad grin graced his face. "Well, how 'bout that?" he asked instead.

Merlin laughed a nervous, relieved laugh. "Ya," he answered. "How 'bout that."

They quickly retreated, passing Nigel's personal servant two corridors down, and Merlin felt his limbs shake with the sheer weight of relief.

Was it true? Was it really over?

**A/N: Tada! What do you guys think? Did the potion really work? Is it _finally_ over? We shall see….muahahahaha!**

**Plenty more to come. ;)**

**~Syd**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Yay! I am officially taking this story off of hiatus and returning to tackle it in full force! Sorry for the delay. If you've been following OWS then you know why there's been such a long wait. I realized I really didn't have time to work on two stories at once (**_**shocker**_**, right?) and since OWS was so close to being done, I just decided to finish that one, first. (Though OWS turned out longer than expected…)**

**But here we go! Back to Iron Grip. Does anybody need a refresher as to what's happened? Very well.**

**(Cue dramatic voice.)**

_**Previously, on Iron Grip:**_

_**Lord Nigel, a truly horrid butt-kisser that drove even Uther crazy, arrives in Camelot to pay his respects to the new King of Camelot—Arthur!**_

_**Poor Merlin, forever underappreciated, was tossed off to help Nigel out during his stay. Little did Merlin know he was in for an even worse time than he thought.**_

"_**I know who you are—**_**Emrys.**_**" Merlin turns ashen at the name. Oh! The horror!**_

_**Meanwhile, Gwaine (taking a brief break from his prank war with Percival) notices something's wrong with his friend and follows Merlin to figure out what's going on. And what does he realize? That Merlin has magic! And is being blackmailed!**_

_**The two of them toil all night to find a way to neutralize the threat. Finally, Merlin finds the solution. A potion to alter the memories of the unsuspecting Lord. Will it work? Only time will tell…**_

_**(Enjoy!**_

_**~Syd)**_

Chapter Six

"I don't like it."

"Well what do you want me to do about it?" Arthur demanded.

"Talk to him!" Gwen answered instantly.

Arthur snorted. "Yes. Because _talking_ solves all problems."

Gwen allowed herself a small smile. "Talking's more powerful than you think it is."

"Well then _he_ should talk to me. Or better yet, _you. _Besides, he seems to be talking plenty to Gwaine." The moment the words left his mouth, Arthur regretted them. They sounded petty and jealous. And judging by how Gwen's smile widened a fraction, she'd noticed, too. But her smile faded shortly after.

"I'm just worried about him," she admitted. "Something's been off with him all week, and you know it."

He relented, "Of course I know it. But you know Merlin: he never comes clean when something's bothering him. It doesn't matter how much I talk, he still won't so much as pry his teeth apart." Actually, that wasn't accurate at all. Merlin would talk very quickly and openly, just about nothing of importance and then he would successfully change the topic of conversation.

But…Gwaine seemed to have a better idea of what was going on. At least judging by the unusual amount of time the two of them were spending together, and the even more unusual seriousness of Gwaine's demeanor over the past week. As far as Arthur could tell, even the infamous prank war between him and Percival had been significantly subdued as of recently.

"I'll try to find out what's going on," Arthur promised his wife. He had no intention of asking Merlin, but he did have _some_ idea how to figure things out.

"Good." She reached up and kissed her husband's cheek.

.~.

"Gwaine, I am your king! You can't refuse to answer me!"

"Oh, I'm answering," Gwaine countered, "and my answer is that you're being a nosy princess and that you should stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

Arthur glowered. "You can't seriously be telling me that _nothing _is wrong. I mean have you _seen_ him? He's got huge bags under his eyes, a nasty cut on his cheek, and he's jumpier than my bloodhounds! I said 'hello' to him yesterday and he jumped so high it's like he was expecting to be attacked!"

"Believe it or not, Arthur, Merlin actually _can_ take care of himself," Gwaine patted Arthur on the shoulder. "Though I think it's cute you're getting so worked up."

"I am not _cute!" _Arthur shouted. Too late, a pair of sniggers informed Arthur that he and Gwaine had reached their destination without him noticing, and he looked up to see Elyan tucking his smile behind his hand.

Arthur, drawing himself up as tall as he could, spat out orders for everyone to take their places, which everyone hurriedly obeyed. And Arthur resigned himself to waiting until after training before broaching the subject with Gwaine again.

.~.

An hour passed midday, Merlin returned to the lord's chamber, feeling much lighter of heart than he had the last week. He was empty handed this time, as it was already passed lunch time, so he knocked on the door and folded his hands behind his back respectfully. He would be the perfect servant from now until Nigel left if it killed him.

Instead of calling for the door to be opened, Nigel actually opened the door himself, dressed in sturdy boots for traipsing around the outdoor training courts. He smiled at Merlin and stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

"Lead the way, my boy," he said without so much as an official greeting.

Down to business. Well, that was fine by Merlin. The less talking the better. So Merlin began his way down the corridor, steadily leading the lord outside, and they eventually worked their way to the knights' training grounds. The sun was bright and hot overhead, but at least the ground wasn't muddy—that was always worse.

Arthur and the knights were on the opposite side of the field when Merlin and Nigel showed up. The king raised his hand in quick greeting. Merlin noticed the tense line of annoyance in Arthur's jaw, but doubted that the lord beside him would see it.

As the king did not yet approach them, as he was currently leading the knights in some sort of drill, Merlin cleared his throat nervously. "We should wait here for a moment, my lord," he instructed Nigel. "His Majesty will call us over when he is ready."

"Yes, yes," Nigel agreed, and he leaned back against the fence beside them. "Besides, this gives us a chance to have a little chat."

Instantly, Merlin stiffened. A tense moment of silence stretched between them. "My lord?" Merlin asked at last, eyeing the noble carefully.

"Oh don't look so nervous, boy, you wouldn't want to draw attention, would you?" Obediently, Merlin looked forward again. He could feel sweat build on his brow that wasn't entirely from the heat. "I know what you tried to pull on me."

Merlin's hands, clasped respectably in front of him, turned white from his suddenly tight grip. "My lord, I don't understand," he lied, hoping against hope Nigel wasn't inferring what he thought he was inferring.

"I do not appreciate being lied to, Emrys. I know you tampered with my memories. I'm still not entirely sure _how_ you did it, but well done. Those fake memories were quite…distracting. Giving me memories of a dozen or so people all hiding magic was a nice touch, and of course those quite _normal_ memories of you that were quite false. But you see, I'm not so easy to fool."

Merlin swallowed thickly. "I don't know what you're talking about," he lied.

Nigel's patronizing smile was not phased. "I think you and I both know that's not true. So tell me, how did you do it? A poultice? A potion? An enchantment? I'm eager to know." Merlin swallowed again, but said nothing. "Never mind then, I suppose it's really not that important. All you need to know is that I've sorted through those fake memories. And yes, I still expect you to steal that amulet for me."

A new rage burned through Merlin. "If you think I'm handing over such powerful black magic to the likes of _you—"_

"Oh! Would you look at that," Nigel interrupted. "His Majesty is waving us over. Shall we go have a word with him?" And Nigel strode forward, and Merlin hurried to follow.

"Fine, _fine!"_ he hissed quietly. "But _I need more time._"

Nigel shook his head. "No, you need motivation."

Merlin tried his best to look as though nothing had happened as he trailed behind the lord. He couldn't help his eyes wandering to Gwaine, who frowned slightly when he caught Merlin's eye, sensing something wasn't right. He raised his eyebrow questioningly, inclining his head ever so slightly towards Nigel, who was now shaking hands in greeting with Arthur. At Merlin's tiny shake of the head, Gwaine's eyes narrowed again.

The spell hadn't worked, after all.

.~.

"Well I'm parched," Leon informed the others as the last of his padding came off, "and we don't have duty until tonight. Anyone fancy a trip to the tavern?"

"Sure," Elyan answered swiftly. "But only if Gwaine promises no more singing." The knights laughed at that, and Gwaine forced a laugh as well. He loved a good joke at his own expense, but right now he had far more important things on his mind.

"Yes, well, you won't have to worry about that today, Elyan. I'm afraid I shan't be joining you."

They actually all froze and stared at him. A clamor of metal broke the silence as Merlin dropped his armful of Arthur's armor.

"You can't be serious," Elyan said at last. "_You? _Turning down a visit to the tavern?"

"I know! I'm sorry to say it, myself," Gwaine admitted dramatically. "The ale, the women, the mead, the women! But unfortunately, a _woman_ is the problem right now."

Leon snickered. "Who's wife were you flirting with this time?" he asked bluntly.

"Hey, in my defense, she _said_ she was available!" Gwaine countered. "But all the same, I plan to keep away from the tavern for a day or two until she and her husband are most certainly on their merry way."

Leon and Elyan both shrugged, Elyan patting him on the shoulder as they passed. Percival was the only one who hesitated. His eyes flickered briefly to Merlin, but thankfully, the boy had his back turned and was putting away the last of the training equipment. "Want any company?" he asked lightly, and Gwaine knew that at least one knight had seen through his lie.

Gwaine shook his head. "Thanks, but you go on ahead," he said in as jolly a voice as he could muster. Percival just shrugged, and at last followed the others out.

There was, of course, no actual flirtatious woman or angered husband. At least, not _this_ time. But it had happened enough times in the past that Gwaine had known his tale would be swallowed easily.

So when the door at last shut behind the knights, and with Arthur off with Lord Nigel, Gwaine rounded on Merlin. "What happened?" he asked, keeping his voice down just in case.

Merlin winced. "I don't know," he admitted. "Everything seemed just fine this morning, but…" he shook his head. "I really don't know what happened. I thought it had worked."

Gwaine rubbed a hand over his face. "Well, so much for that plan. I don't suppose trying it again is an option?" At Merlin's pointed look, he raised his hands in defense. "It was just a suggestion." He lowered his hands again. "So what are you going to do?"

Merlin rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know."

.~.

Gwaine was quite certain that this was a horrible idea. But considering it was the only thing he could think of, he was going through with it anyways. It was well into the evening, and Gwaine was quite certain that Lord Scum had already retired to his rooms for the night. He was probably sitting in his big cushy chair, maybe by the fire, contemplating how the following evening would play out, as Merlin's deadline was fast approaching. He could practically see the twisted smile on the lord's face as he thought of either handing Merlin over to be executed, or else gaining possession of a powerful magical device. It made Gwaine sick.

Well, Gwaine had a third plan in mind. He drew his sword, hearing the soft chink of metal as it scraped from its sheath. He glanced down the deserted corridor, then took a breath and tried the door handle. It was locked—of course.

So be it. Breaking the door down by force would give him more satisfaction, anyways.

Gwaine took a step back, gathered his wits for a moment, and then kicked the door in with great force. The lock splintered through the wood and the door flew inwards on its protesting hinges.

"Daneir!"

Gwaine ignored the cry as he rushed into the room. Nigel was against the wall behind the table, the chair currently tipped over on the ground. It only took a moment for Gwaine to leap across the room and slam Nigel into the wall, sword at his throat.

"You listen here, _Lord Nigel," _Gwaine hissed, voice dripping with sarcasm at the title. The noble trembled under his grip. "You think you can threaten my friend and get away with it unscathed?"

"I—I'll tell the king about this! You'll be hung!"

Gwaine drew him away from the wall briefly before slamming him against it for a second time, his head striking against the stone with a painful sounding clack. "Not if I slit your throat," Gwaine pointed out. "Now you listen, and you listen good. Merlin is a good man. He could kill you in an instant, but _he_ has chosen not to, in order to protect Arthur's precarious position at court right now. But me? I don't give a damn about politics."

Then Nigel did something Gwaine did not see coming. "_Gwthio!"_ His eyes burned briefly gold, and Gwaine felt an invisible force push backwards on him until he skidded a couple feet away.

Nigel had magic? Blast it all! Why hadn't Merlin _told_ him?

So he wouldn't worry even more, of course.

Gwaine was at Nigel's throat a mere moment later, though, sword once again raised. "You call that magic?" he asked. The push had been feeble, at best. "I've faced sorcerers tens of times stronger than you."

Suddenly, Gwaine froze. His whole body went rigid. Even his chest had trouble expanding, making it difficult to breath. His feet were lifted off the ground. And while Nigel scooted hastily away, Gwaine was slowly turned to face the room again.

Nigel's servant stood there, arm raised, eyes gold, and a wicked smile on his face.

"How about me?" he asked, tauntingly.

**A/N: Dun, dun, DUN! Some of you already figured out that Nigel's servant was going to play a more substantial role. Congrats to those of you who did! I thought I was being subtle…**

**So what do you think? Was it worth the wait? I hope so. And I promise to be updating more regularly this time around. No more stories until this one is finished!  
~Syd**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey, y'all! Just thought you might like to know: there is a new poll on my profile page, asking what kind of Merlin fics you're looking for now that the series is officially over. Go vote! It may influence any future writings of mine. :) I do have a couple of ideas running around my head to pursue after IG, but I'm not sure which will actually develop into stories. We shall see…**

**Thanks!**

**~Syd**

Chapter Seven

"Daneir! Thank goodness." Nigel retreated until he stood partially behind the servant, who still held his arm in front of him. Gwaine struggled to move, but all he managed was some minor twitching. Daneir's pleasure only seemed to increase the more Gwaine struggled, so he finally stopped.

"He came in here and started threatening me," Nigel went on to explain. He straightened his clothes, looking very much like the self-important man he was. "Apparently our little pet didn't keep his mouth shut, after all, as I expected. I told you something was off after the 'intruder' was discovered. You see—"

"Perhaps," Daneir interrupted calmly, without taking his eyes off Gwaine, "it would be more beneficial if you made sure no one else was coming. As you said, Emrys obviously didn't keep his mouth shut. Who knows if anyone else is waiting out there to ambush us."

Nigel's face paled slightly. "You're right, of course. I will ensure no one comes to bother us."

As Nigel left, Gwaine put several pieces together in his head.

He knew that tone that Daneir had used. It was the same tone Arthur used when dealing with people like…well, people like Nigel. It was a tone meant to placate the lord, to make him think he was more important than he was.

Which meant, Nigel wasn't really the one behind this—he only thought he was. Daneir was the one in control. Gwaine and Merlin had been plotting against the wrong man all this time.

Also, somewhere in the back of his mind, Gwaine tucked away the name Daneir had let slip. _Emrys._ So that was Merlin's other name.

Daneir slowly lowered his hand, his gold eyes fading to brown and Gwaine took the time to study him. Medium height and build, not particularly well-muscled, young. His light-brown hair hung partially over his eyes. He certainly didn't look like a powerful sorcerer. But then again, neither did Merlin.

Daneir sighed, and Gwaine took a deep breath to fill his lungs now that he was released from the man's spell. "You've put me in a rather precarious position, you know," he informed the knight. "You see, Nigel told Emrys that if he told anyone, we'd go straight to the court and report his dangerous little secret."

"If you report him, I'll report both you _and_ Nigel. You both have magic. And unlike Merlin, I'm a noble. My accusations will be listened to." That wasn't entirely true, but hopefully Daneir wouldn't know that.

Daneir shrugged. "So go ahead," he said. "That won't save Merlin. And besides that, there's no way Arthur's knights can take me. I'll be long gone. As for Nigel, well. You've seen how weak he is. He's hardly an asset I'm afraid to lose. The only magic he knows is the magic _I _taught him. He has no real talent for it, but I've convinced him otherwise."

"Why?"

"Why do you think? Because now he thinks he has some measure of control over his pathetic life. He's even under the impression that we're _partners_ in this. That he'll get ultimate control over the amulet, and then raise me up from my _lowly_ position as a servant to the right-hand man of the new king. But he doesn't have the power to use that amulet." A slow chuckle escaped Daneir. "Actually, he doesn't really even know who Emrys _is._ He just thinks the man's another measly sorcerer like him. If he knew, I doubt he'd have been so eager to take the reigns when it came to threatening such a powerful man.

Gwaine's eyes widened slightly. He had to wonder just how powerful Merlin was. He'd known there had to be something unusual about him. After all, why else would anyone abduct Gaius looking for him. But he itched to know more.

Daneir's own eyes widened. "Ah, I see. _You_ don't know who Emrys is, either. Well, no matter. _I _know exactly who he is. I've been keeping tabs on him for months. Nigel's part of the plan was more…simple convenience. But I always needed Emrys. In any case," Daneir continued, as if Gwaine had never interrupted him. "As I was saying. Nigel told Emrys that we'd report him if he told anyone. However, if I report him, then who will get the amulet for me? I suppose I could make _you_ do it," Gwaine swallowed thickly, "but that's not nearly as satisfying. But I can't just let it go that he disobeyed orders. So. Here's the new deal. Emrys gets a second chance, but he has until dawn to get me that amulet."

Ice dumped itself down Gwaine's back. "You said he had until tomorrow night!" he protested.

"And there lays his punishment for breaking the rules. Dawn. Also, if he steps out of line again, first I'll tell the court about his magic, and then I'll come and kill _you._" Gwaine glared. "Maybe he'll be more inclined to be cooperative if he knows it's not just _his _life that's on the line anymore."

"I have a better idea. How about I just kill you now?"

The "servant" laughed. "Go ahead and try."

But Gwaine knew that would be foolish. He didn't move.

"Wise choice. Now be a dear, and go tell our friend what the new rules are." His eyes flashed gold briefly and he said softly, "Lord Nigel." A few moments later, the noble returned as called. Gwaine passed him on his way out.

.~.

Well _that_ went well.

Not only had threatening Nigel been completely _pointless,_ seeing as he was clearly _not_ the man in charge here, but Gwaine had succeeded in upping Merlin's deadline, giving them even less time to think of a new plan.

Well, at least one good thing had come from Gwaine's foolhardy plan. He now knew that Daneir was the real threat. Not that the knowledge really did them much good.

Think, think, _think!_ Gwaine ordered himself. What to do? His fingers twitched idly as he stared out the window in his alcove to the courtyard below.

"Hello, Gwaine."

Gwaine jumped, having completely failed to notice Percival coming up behind him. For such a large man, he certainly could move surprisingly quietly.

"Percy!" Gwaine plastered a fake grin on his face and opened his arms wide. "I still owe you for those eggs in my boots, you know. Do you really thing its wise sneaking up on me?"

Percival didn't return the smile, studying his friend. "Something's happened," he observed.

"What?" Gwaine asked innocently, treating the comment as new information and not as an observation. "Is everything all right?" But Percival was not to be fooled, and merely gave him a pointed look. With as sigh, Gwaine shrugged in response and lowered his hands. "Nothing I can't handle," Gwaine said. The lie slipped easily off his tongue, but Percival did not look convinced.

"Does this have to do with Merlin?"

Gwaine hastily shushed him, and looked around earnestly. But no one else was to be found.

"He really is in trouble, isn't he?" Gwaine hesitated, then slowly nodded. "Let me help," Percival demanded. "I care about him, too."

"I know you do," Gwaine responded. "But…it's not that simple. And believe me, there's nothing you can do to help."

"But there's something _you_ can do?" Gwaine hesitated again, then finally shook his head in defeat.

"I think I just made things worse, actually," he admitted. He let out a groan and sank to the ground, leaning against the wall. "I don't know what to do."

"Tell me. We'll figure it out together."

"I _can't._" Percival wouldn't betray Merlin, Gwaine knew that, but it was not his place take risks with Merlin's life.

_Isn't that what you just did?_ A voice in the back of his mind argued.

But it wasn't enough to shake his resolve. Gwaine would never tell anyone. Not even Percival. Merlin trusted him. "I'm sorry, Percival. You're just going to have to trust me on this. The fewer people who know, the better."

"I do trust you, Gwaine, and Merlin. But the both of you have a tendency to bottle things up and not ask for help when you really need it."

The words turned over in Gwaine's head, and a burst of laughter escaped him unheeded. He'd never really realized how alike he and Merlin were, but Percival was right. After all, his entire argument to get Gwaine to talk was remarkably similar to Gwaine's own argument to get _Merlin_ to talk.

"You're right," he said at last. "But that doesn't change the fact that I'm not going to tell you."

Percival sighed, and joined Gwaine on the ground. "Well, do you have a plan?"

"Go find Merlin and tell him I just made everything worse," Gwaine responded, not liking that plan at all. He made no move to get up. He'd been trying to _help_. Stupid Daneir and stupid Nigel and their stupid evil mind-controlling amulet of doom.

A thought suddenly hit Gwaine, and he sat up away from the wall, brain turning.

"Got an idea?" Percival asked.

Gwaine let the idea sink in for a moment before he firmly nodded, eyes hardening in determination. "Yes, actually, I do." He hesitated. "And actually, maybe there _is_ something you can do to help." He got to his feet, closely copied by Percival and the larger of the two knights met his determined gaze with a determined gaze of his own.

"What can I do?"

"You can help me rob Camelot's vaults."

.~.

"And…how exactly does this help Merlin?"

Gwaine sighed, pulling his head back from peering around the corner, making sure the guards outside weren't paying them any attention. "Look," he said quietly, "I told you. I can't tell you that part. If you want to back out, I understand. But I'm going through with it."

Percival shrugged. "I said I'm here to help," he responded. "Count me in. I just don't understand it. So what exactly are we looking for again?"

"A silver amulet. About this big," he held up his hands to indicate the proper size, "with a purple gemstone in the center."

"Is this what that intruder was looking for?"

"No," Gwaine responded honestly. After all, Merlin hadn't really been looking for the amulet.

"And how do you know?" Percival raised his eyebrow as they continued to look through the shelves, opening small boxes and sorting through trinkets.

"Because I know what the intruder _was_ after," was the clipped response. Percival sighed yet again, resigning himself to far more questions than answers.

In the end, Percival was the one who found it. Resting in a tiny, plain lead box, the amulet sat quite innocently. Neither of them touched it, a little put off by the strange looking runes cut into the metal.

"And this…is going to help Merlin?" Percival asked, looking at Gwaine skeptically.

"Let's hope so," was Gwaine's response. He silently closed the box, then tucked it into the front of his shirt. "And, Percival…"

"I know, I know. Don't tell anyone."

Gwaine briefly clasped his friend's shoulder, then the two of them casually made their way out of the vaults. The guards didn't pay any attention to the two knights. Then, several corridors down, they parted ways and Gwaine headed towards Merlin's rooms.

Mercifully, Gaius was out again. So when Gwaine slipped into the physician's chambers, Merlin was the only one there, sitting at the table and staring angrily at the candle in front of him. The same candle that Merlin had lit in front of Gwaine, revealing so much with one little word.

"I hope you glaring at that candle isn't a sign that you regret telling me."

Merlin jumped. He hadn't even noticed the door open. A small smile tucked at his lips. "No," he answered. "Just regretting I'm in this whole mess."

Gwaine stepped forward, but hesitated. "Well, I think things might be a little worse than we thought," he said at last. Merlin's brow furrowed in worry. "I…may have done something rather stupid."

Merlin jumped to his feet. "You didn't tell Arthur, did you?" he demanded, voice a little louder than he meant to.

"No!" Gwaine protested. "No, of course not. But…um, well, I did go to, well…_discuss_ matters with Lord Nigel."

Merlin groaned. "Gwaine!

"I know, I know, it was a stupid thing to do," Gwaine supplied for him. "But in my defense, _you_ never told me that he had magic, too."

Merlin slapped his hand to his forehead. "Why _else_ do you think he wants a _magic amulet?_"

Gwaine paused at that. "Oh."

Merlin took a deep breath, obviously trying to keep from jumping to conclusions. "So?" he asked at last. "What happened?"

"Well, _Nigel_ was…quite easy to intimidate, actually. His magic doesn't seem to be very powerful."

"It's not," Merlin confirmed.

"But, we appear to have made a rather inaccurate assumption when planning on how to deal with him." And Gwaine told Merlin about Daneir, Nigel's servant, the one who was _really _behind this whole thing. Merlin slowly sank to his seat again. When Gwaine at last got to the part about the deadline being moved up to dawn, Merlin didn't even have room left for surprise. At this point, he was equally doomed either way.

"But!" Gwaine continued, "I think I've come up with a solution! And I'm not quite sure how we missed it during our _first_ round of brainstorming.

Merlin glanced up from his hands, looking questioningly (and a bit hopefully) at his friend. Gwaine pulled the box out from his shirt and put it on the table, then opened it.

The moment the box opened, Merlin jumped to his feet again, and in his haste to retreat tripped over the bench, knocking it over and ending up sprawled on the ground in an ungracious heap.

"Gwaine," Merlin exclaimed, "What did you _do?_"

"Don't you see? It's perfect!" Gwaine hurriedly moved forward and helped Merlin to his feet. "_You_ use the amulet against _them_. Make _them_ obey _you!_ Then they can't do a thing against you!"

Merlin shook his head. Reaching forward hurriedly, he slammed the box shut. "No."

"_What! Why?_"

But Merlin continued to shake his head. "Gwaine, you have no idea what you're asking."

"What does it matter?" Gwaine demanded. "It's magic. _You're_ magic. It can solve our problems."

"It's _dark magic,_ Gwaine. That…_thing _shouldn't even exist.

"Dark magic, good magic, is there really even such a thing?" Gwaine demanded again, growing a bit impatient. Because if this didn't work, then he didn't know what else to do. "Everyone here assumes magic is evil. No questions, no exceptions. But _you're_ proof that that's not true. Magic can be used for good _or_ for evil. Why is a magic amulet any different?"

Merlin hesitated. "There _is_ dark magic," he informed Gwaine. "Magic that has been twisted, corrupted. That is the magic that exists in this amulet. I can sense it. There's a reason it's been stored in that lead box. Lead blocks magical energy from leaking out."

Gwaine shook his head firmly. "Look, Merlin, this might be our only chance. _Your _only chance. Maybe this thing was made for evil intentions, but if _you _use it for good—for self-defense, and for the protection of _Camelot—_what's so wrong about that?"

Merlin hesitated again. Slowly, he reached forward, hand hovering over the box, then he grit his teeth and opened it.

The magic assaulted his senses almost immediately. It was dark, and _wrong._ But, maybe Gwaine was right. Maybe he could use it for the right reasons, for _good_ reasons. Maybe he could purify its twisted nature. Maybe he could redeem it.

In any case, did he really have a choice?

He carefully lifted the amulet out of the box.

**A/N: So? What do you think of Gwaine's plan? Is it a good idea? Horrendous? Do you think Merlin's doing the right thing by giving it a chance? And, the ever-present question, do you think it will work?**

**I look forward to reading your responses. Thanks for reading!**

**~Syd**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

The moment Merlin picked the amulet up, the energy the thing was giving out seemed to pulse inside him.

He almost put it back down. The magic _was_ wrong: dark, twisted. He felt dark just holding it. But he kept the amulet firmly in his grasp. As long as he knew it was evil, as long as he could sense its darkness, then surely he would be able to keep his mind clear long enough to do what needed to be done. Then the amulet would go back in that box and never be used again.

Or better yet, Merlin would find a way to destroy the blasted thing.

"Should you practice?"

Merlin jumped. He'd almost forgotten Gwaine was there. "Practice?" he repeated.

"Yes, practice. Use that thing on me, make sure you can get it to work."

"Are you _insane!_" Merlin demanded. "I'm not using this thing on you! We have no idea what it does!"

"It controls people," Gwaine said reasonably. "You're the one in control, and I trust you. Just make me do a jig or something."

Merlin shook his head at Gwaine's naivety. Once this was all over, they were going to have to have a long talk. "Look, Gwaine," Merlin explained, "there are different measures of 'control' and we have no idea what exactly 'control' means for this amulet. For all I know, using it against you could turn you into an empty shell, with nothing but my orders, and if I release you then you could simply crumble as an empty husk."

Gwaine frowned. "Well that doesn't sound very pleasant."

"No, it doesn't," he agreed.

Gwaine groaned. "So what, you just wing it? I don't know much about magic, but that doesn't seem like a terribly intelligent idea."

"And storming in to threaten Lord Nigel without any sort of a plan was _so_ much better." The knight shrugged somewhat sheepishly. "Don't worry," Merlin continued. "I'm…kind of a bit of an anomaly when it comes to magic."

"I gathered. Don't suppose you're willing to tell me _why_ you're so special, exactly?"

"It's…complicated," Merlin began, tapping his fingers against the wood of the table. "And to tell you the truth, I don't really understand all that well, either."

"Another long story?" Gwaine guessed, to which Merlin nodded. "Well, we've got a while before dawn," he pointed out. But Merlin shook his head.

"Sorry, but it's time to end this. Besides, by dawn, people will be beginning to wake up again. Better to finish things now while everyone's asleep."

"Better to finish _what_ exactly?" Both of them jumped. Wincing, they turned to face the now-open doorway with identical guilty expressions. Gaius stood in front of them, one eyebrow perked suspiciously.

Merlin recovered first. "Gaius!" he greeted pleasantly. "I thought you weren't coming back tonight. You were going to stay and watch over little Rila."

"Her fever broke," Gaius answered. "She is no longer in danger, and her father insisted I get my own rest. Now don't you change the subject." His eyes fell on the the amulet that Merlin still held and his eyes widened. "Merlin! Is that…"

Merlin winced. "Gwaine found it."

"He _found it_," Gaius repeated. "An evil, magical amulet that has been lost for two hundred years and he _found it._"

"Yup!" Gwaine perked up with pride. "In Camelot's vaults. Wasn't sure what it was, so I asked Merlin."

"That's why I've been researching it," Merlin quickly added. "I wanted to figure out exactly what it was. Now we know, it's going straight back into the vaults. So if you'd excuse us we'll—"

Gaius clipped Merlin on the back of the head as he attempted to pass. "Don't you dare lie to me, boy!" he ordered. Merlin rubbed his head. "You're horrible at it. And you were researching it by name, which you wouldn't have known if Gwaine had simply _found_ it."

"I told you, I found a book in the library. It had its picture and—" Again, Gaius smacked his head.

"Merlin, maybe it's best if you just told him," Gwaine inserted, somewhat reluctantly. Even at Merlin's instant glare, he remained calm.

"Told me _what?_" Gaius demanded.

Merlin looked between them, silently pleading for Gwaine to dig him out of this hole he'd put him in. But Gwaine gave no help, so finally Merlin turned to Gaius, very reluctantly.

"See, well…" he paused, "well I guess the first important thing to tell you is that Gwaine…sort of knows about my magic now…"

Gaius was struck speechless. He actually took a step back in his shock. Then his gaping mouth snapped shut, jaw clenched so tightly that white lines appeared around his lips as he stared at Gwaine.

Gwaine was quick to reassure him. "Don't worry, Merlin has nothing to fear from me. I've told no one and I swear I won't."

"How?" Gaius demanded. He rounded on Merlin. "How did this happen? How long has he known?"

"Only a few days."

"How many times, Merlin, have I told you to be careful!"

Merlin wisely chose not to tell his mentor that he'd _intentionally_ told Gwaine. He'd tell him later, once his mentor was a bit calmer about the whole thing. "I know," he said instead. "But I trust Gwaine."

"It's not about _trust_ Merlin. It's about _common sense!_ We live in Camelot, for heaven's sake! And I hardly think—" he drew a breath and put his hands on his hips in forced calm. "In any case, we can talk about this later. This still doesn't explain what you're doing with that amulet."

"Well…it really was in the vaults, actually," Merlin told him. "And well…I'm in a bit of a precarious position right now, and I'm thinking it might just help me out."

Gaius's face paled, hands falling to his sides again. Then he raised both hands and clipped them both on the backs of their heads simultaneously. Immediately afterwards, he snatched the amulet from Merlin's hand, saw the lead box on the table, and slammed it back inside.

Then he turned back to Merlin. "What," he began slowly, "could you _possibly_ be thinking!" he demanded.

"It was Gwaine's idea," Merlin muttered.

But Gaius was not to be distracted. "Oh, and _Gwaine_, with his _vast_ knowledge and experience of all dealings with magic—and _black_ magic I might add!—would know best!"

Gwaine wilted, beginning to think that maybe Merlin had been right, and he really _didn't _understand what he'd been asking when he brought his friend that amulet.

"Magic like this is not to be meddled with. It's just asking for trouble! What would your mother say if she knew what you'd been considering?" he paused. "What would _Arthur_ say when he finally finds out? What if he asks you if you've ever used dark magic like this? And you'll have to say yes?"

Merlin paled. He'd played that scenario over in his mind countless times. On his brighter, hopeful days, those scenarios ended on a good note where he didn't have to hide anymore. Arthur may be confused, and may need time to adjust, but he'd be generally accepting. On his darker days, he pictured Arthur raging and storming at him, demanding questions exactly like the one Gaius was posing now.

Until now, those horrid nightmare-ish mantras always included him protesting against the thought of using his magic for evil, or any kind of dark magic. He'd beg and plead for Arthur to believe him.

If he used that amulet, though? If he crossed that line? He'd never be able to answer those questions in a way that Arthur would understand.

Gaius saw the deflation of his ward, and gently held out the box. "Take it back to the vaults," he said calmly. "If it's been safe there for two hundred years, it can be safe there again." When Merlin hesitantly took the box from him, Gaius stepped forward and pulled Merlin into a hug. "I'm sorry, my boy," he said. "But you had to understand."

Merlin was silent for a long moment. "Thank you, Gaius," he whispered at last. He returned the hug, and then tucked the box into the front of his shirt and left the room, Gwaine following swiftly at his heels.

Two corridors down, Gwaine finally got the nerve to break the haunting silence. "So…we're going back to the vaults?"

Merlin was silent for another long moment. "No."

Gwaine stopped dead in his tracks, and reluctantly, Merlin stopped his movement as well, the two of them standing in the flickering torchlight. "Why the hell_ not?_" Gwaine demanded. "You heard Gaius!"

"_You_ were the one who wanted me to use this thing," Merlin pointed out. "I told you it was…" he paused, looking fervently around, "dark," he finished more quietly. "You said I should use it anyway."

"But Gaius was right," he argued. "I really don't have a clue what I'm doing, do I? And I'm starting to think I should never have taken that thing out of its cursed hiding place."

"We need to put an end to this threat," Merlin said. "They're not just a threat to me, they're a threat to Arthur, and to Camelot. You heard Daneir talk about a new king."

"But what will you tell Arthur?" Gwiane asked softly. "When…when everything finally comes out?"

Merlin's eyes were dark and sad. "That I have done _everything _in my power to keep him and this kingdom safe. Even things that I will undoubtedly regret. Hopefully…he'll understand."

Merlin began moving forward again. Gwaine, getting a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, followed.

.~.

Merlin's stomach was in knots the entire walk through the castle, and his confidence that he was doing the right thing began to fade the farther they went.

However, his determination only grew. How many times had his own insecurity cost people lives? Never again. He would _act_. Even if that action was one he knew would haunt him forever.

Dimly, he realized that even if this worked, it would only be a temporary solution. What was he supposed to do? Keep them enslaved to his will for the rest of their lives? But, it would buy them time. And that's what they needed more than anything else right now. Later, he'd find a way to kill them without casting any political clouds over Arthur's new reign.

The thought of killing them no longer bothered him as much as it had. He wasn't just protecting himself anymore, he was protecting Arthur. As foolish as it had been, Merlin was glad that Gwaine had stormed in on those two. At least now they knew more about their actual goals for the amulet. He'd already killed so many to protect Arthur. He would do it again without blinking. What was two more faces to plague his nightmares? But never before had he used dark magic to accomplish his goals.

They reached Nigel's rooms far sooner than Merlin would have liked, but he narrowed his eyes in determination and pulled the box from his shirt, staring at it coldly for a long moment.

"You sure about this, mate?" Gwaine asked quietly.

Merlin's only answer was to open the box. Amulet in hand, the lead box fell from his fingers and he strode forward, bursting through the door, which still had splintered wood at the frame from Gwaine kicking it inwards not long ago.

Nigel, having apparently been in bed, attempted to jump to his feet too quickly, got tangled in the sheets, and toppled sideways off the bed. His "servant" sat at the table by the lit fire, and he didn't so much as twitch at the sudden entrance, not appearing surprised in the least. He probably sensed the amulet before they even entered.

"Emrys!" Nigel shouted, quickly and awkwardly disentangling himself and gaining his feet. He stood, straightening his night-clothes in an attempt to look dignified. "I see you've brought the amulet. Good. Now hand it over."

Daneir slowly stood, but he said nothing. He merely studied the warlock in front of him.

Merlin, in turn, studied him. Seeing him now, knowing he was the true threat, Merlin wondered how he could have missed it—that coldness in his eyes, the slight twitch of his lips that threatened to curl them into a smirk.

Really. He should know by now how easily servants can hide important secrets.

"I'm not giving you the amulet," he said firmly. Nigel made some sort of strangled noise of surprise, but Merlin ignored him, eyes on the true threat.

"And yet you brought it," Daneir pointed out. "So I can only imagine that you came with the intention of using it, am I right?" He did not seem concerned.

Merlin felt his magic begin to stir and he gripped the amulet more firmly as it began to pulse, rhythmically, in time with the pulsing of his own power. He was going to stop Daneir. He would not be allowed to threaten Camelot like this. To threaten _Arthur._ He had to be stopped.

_Yes,_ something inside him seemed to say. _Stop him. Do it._

The amulet wanted to be used. It had been stored out of sight, dormant, for two hundred years. It itched to be active again—to have power coursing through it. Its desire to be used seeped into Merlin's mind and he itched to pour his magic through it.

His magic rose to the surface, and his eyes burned gold.

A strange glee filled him as the runes on the amulet began to glow faintly, and a manic little laugh escaped him as he turned to fully face Daneir.

"Merlin…"

The quiet voice broke through the fog in his head, and Merlin's eyes snapped to Gwaine, who was studying him with unveiled concern.

_No._

No. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

Strange whispers filled his head, pushing past the odd euphoria that had filled him. Harsh whispers, like people trying to scream at him, but who couldn't quite find their voices to put strength to their words. How many were there? Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands?

They obscured his senses, and offered him the dimmest of _warnings._

**A/N: I debated like crazy where to split between this chapter and the next. I almost saved that last part for next time, and then I almost continued on a little bit farther from this instead. But in the end, this is what you get. :)**

**Hope you like it! I'm interested in reading your ideas as to what's going to happen next. Thoughts?**

**Also! Don't forget about the poll on my profile page! I'm curious to see where the fandom stands now that the show is officially over.**

**~Syd**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey y'all! So guess what? I just went to New York for the first time in my life. So much fun! Freezing cold, but I like the cold, so that was totally worth it. Highlight was either Phantom of the Opera (saw it live. So cool!) or the Natural History Museum. They're underwater section is SO well done. I highly recommend either of these things if you happen to be visiting New York anytime soon.**

**In the meantime, since we all know you're not here to listen to me gush about my trips, here's the next chapter of IG! Hope you enjoy! It gave me quite a bit of trouble, but I think I like the way it turned out…**

Chapter Nine

Whispers. Warnings.

Instantly, Merlin withdrew his magic deep inside himself, clamping it away as his heartbeat thrummed in his ribs. His eyes faded back to blue, and the amulet's runes faded back to dark lines. The euphoria faded, leaving Merlin feeling rather cold, and empty.

All that time, Daneir remained still, completely unfazed by what was happening in front of him. He even smiled when Merlin finally turned his horrified eyes to him again.

"I knew it," he said calmly. "The prophecies speak of your inexplicable aversion to darkness. Someone like you could never use Arolygaeth. I knew you couldn't bring yourself to do it." He raised his own hand, eyes flashing, _"Byddin!"_

A heavy force slammed into Merlin. He flew backwards, knocking into Gwaine. Both of them smashed into the wall. Dazed, Merlin regained his feet as quickly as he could. As Daneir raised his hand again, Merlin pulled at his magic to block the coming spell, but the first stirrings of magic made the amulet hum in his hand, and a faint hint of that crazed delight returned, making Merlin dampen his power once again.

In his moment of hesitation, Merlin was magically seized, and pulled forward, away from Gwaine's grasping hands and over Daneir's head into the other wall, destroying the dressing screen. He bit his lip firmly, refusing to show the pain that resounded through his body from the impact.

"Come on, Emrys, defend yourself!"

Another throw and Merlin was smashed into the wardrobe, a small cry escaping him as his head struck the wood. He thought he felt a trickle of wetness, but before he could check, he was flying again.

Merlin endured the abuse, keeping his magic firmly at bay. He couldn't use it, not while he held the amulet. He would _not_ use the amulet. That faintest taste of what it was capable of—those whispers of warnings—told him how much of a fool he'd been to ever consider this plan. But he dare not drop it.

He'd successfully handicapped himself. And Daneir knew it.

Sword in hand, Gwaine ran forward to run Daneir through, but the metal hilt in his hand turned red, sizzling into his hands and forced him to drop it with a small cry. Instinct made Gwaine raise his right arm in an arcing motion and block the strike aimed his way, and a left-handed strike resulted in a satisfying crack of Daneir's jaw.

Another flash of golden eyes and Gwaine was soaring backwards. The main door opened before he collided with it, and he crashed into a rather large person who only just managed to keep his footing.

Gwaine looked up in confusion. "Percy!" he shouted. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Percival forced his friend to the side as Daneir leveled another spell at them.

"Didn't think I'd let you face whatever this is alone, did you?" He firmly gripped his sword and stepped forward, dropping into a fighting stance. Gwaine picked up his own fallen sword—now cooled—and did likewise.

"Oh for the love of—" Daneir cut himself off. "You can't seriously expect to fight me?" He raised his hand again, only to be tackled from the side by Merlin.

"Leave them alone!"

Daneir and Merlin both hit the ground and Merlin rolled off him. "Gwaine!" he yelled, and from his position on the floor, slid the amulet across the wood to the knight.

Two inches from the knight's grasp, the amulet changed direction and flew back, straight into Daneir's hand.

"No!" Gwaine and Merlin both shouted. Gwaine threw himself forward, but Daneir was ready for him. Some of those foreign words, and Gwaine grabbed at his throat, unable to breathe.

Merlin, no longer handicapped by the amulet, shouted as he let his own magic lash out. Daneir braced himself, but no amount of bracing could prepare himself for raw power like Merlin's, and it was his turn to be thrown into a wall. Gwaine gasped for air as the pressure on his throat released and sank to his knees, brain slightly fuzzy. When Daneir slid to the ground, though, he landed on his feet, and laughed.

"Yes," he said gleefully. "You really _are_ that powerful."

"_Ysigo!"_ Daneir dodged the blow, and the wall behind him exploded into a pile of debris and dust, leaving a line of sight into the next empty bedroom. Percival remained where he stood, mouth hanging open in utter shock, sword hanging limply at his side.

"Yes!" Daneir shouted again, sounding quite properly insane, continuing to dodge spells.

"_Cwitochu_!"The wardrobe was sliced into two. "_Sgaldiad!"_ The bed burst into flames. All the time, Daneir continued to laugh, not letting off any spells of his own, merely dodging. A flash of gold in the enemy's eyes here and there told Merlin how he was dodging his spells so easily.

Changing strategies, Merlin took a deep breath, then let all the air out of his lungs as he let his magic cascade out, enveloping Daneir. The power sank, and left a very heavy feeling in the air. Daneir came to a standstill, mid-step, his body locked.

"Ha!" Gwaine shouted in triumph, slowly stumbling to his feet. Merlin raised his eyebrows at him. Then when Gwaine coughed once as he inhaled a lungful of dust and smoke, Merlin winced and looked at the destruction of the room. This was going to be a fun thing to explain. With a couple muttered words, the fire at least was extinguished, though smoke from the charred wood and cloth still curled to the ceiling.

"It's over, Daneir," Merlin told him firmly. He spared a glance for Nigel, but the lord was merely cowering in the corner of the room.

"No!" Nigel ran at Merlin, but Gwaine blocked his way and leveled his sword at the man. He stopped instantly and backed away.

"I wouldn't interfere, if I were you," Gwaine said slowly. Nigel eyed the tip of the blade, then Gwaine's face, then the frozen Daneir. It didn't take him long to think through his options, and he bolted towards the door. But Percival intercepted him, and the lord ended up tripped flat on his face with a large knight on his back. When Percival looked up again, staring at Merlin with wide eyes, Merlin couldn't help but shy away slightly.

"This doesn't change anything, Emrys!" Nigel informed them from his awkward position pinned to the floor. "You'll still be executed. No way to hide your magic now."

Merlin sighed. "Actually, there is." He'd hoped to avoid any sort of political scandal that would cast a dark light on Arthur's fresh reign. But there was no way to avoid that now. Nigel and Daneir had it out for the kingdom, and using the amulet to control them until they were a safe distance away was no longer an option. Better that Arthur deal with political outrage of the guest lord dying under his care than deal with the threat of another magical enemy plotting against them.

Another laugh broke Merlin from his dark thoughts and made all four sets of eyes turn to face the more dangerous captive again.

The amulet, still held firmly in Daneir's hand, was glowing, the runes lit up like tiny lines of fire over the cold metal.

"No!" Merlin shouted, and sprinted forward, but Daneir looked up and pierced him with a golden, blazing stare. A flash of light erupted from the amulet, and Merlin felt his whole world cloud over and a cold emptiness consumed him.

"Merlin!" the voice was dim and distant.

Gwaine looked on in horror at the glazed look in Merlin's eyes. He didn't so much as twitch in recognition when he called out his name. So the knight ran forward, grabbing Merlin's arm. He had to get him out of here, _now._

But then Merlin turned to him and put his hand up. Gwaine suddenly found himself gripped in invisible bonds and lifted off his feet, dangling in midair and looking into a pair of empty gold eyes.

"Merlin, snap out of it!" Gwaine shouted, struggling the best he could. But Merlin's hand merely tightened in the air, and Gwaine felt the pressure increase until his struggles ceased.

"Merlin!" Percival shouted, horrified. "What are you _doing?_"

"He won't listen," Daneir said calmly, stepping forward until he stood next to his new puppet. "He'll never listen to anyone else again, not even himself. The great Emrys! Completely helpless and under my control. And by extension, the whole world."

"You're insane," Gwaine spat at him. "If Merlin's really so cursed powerful, you should know better than to try to control him. He'll break free, and then what do you think he'll do?"

Nigel laughed, still pinned underneath Percival. "No one has ever broken the amulet's hold!" he inserted. Daneir closed his eyes against his annoyance but otherwise ignored the lord's interruption. "He belongs to _us_ now!"

"Let him _go!_" Gwaine commanded.

"I have a better idea," Daneir replied. "Let's see just what our new little pet can do, shall we? Oh, but I think we need a better vantage point."

Merlin didn't seem to even need verbal instructions. Daneir just simply looked at him, and then Merlin muttered some of those foreign words, and Gwaine suddenly felt like all the air had been squeezed from him, and an intense pressure built in his head. A moment later, there was a silent pop and Gwaine found himself gasping on his hands and knees. He fingered the cold stone beneath him in confusion for a moment, then looked up and gasped.

The five of them were atop the east tower, which also happened to be the tallest. From here, they had a vantage point of the entire city before them, including the farming fields out past the main gates and the forest beyond them. The moon shone bright overhead, silently mocking them as it declared all to be bright and well.

Gwaine, free of his bonds for a moment, ran forward and grabbed Merlin by the shoulders, shaking him firmly. "Merlin!" he shouted. But again he was faced with a cold stare and ended up pinned to the tower wall. Percival joined him a moment later, and Nigel clumsily regained his feet now that his captor was indisposed. "Merlin, I know you're in there," Gwaine continued, ignoring the phantom pressure on his chest. "You can't let him control you like this!"

"It's no use," Daneir reminded him in a bored drawl.

"You're stronger than him, Merlin! He wouldn't need you otherwise. _Think!_ Remember how we met? In a bar. You and Arthur got into some trouble and I helped you out. I didn't even know who you two were. And the quest for that stupid trident! Remember? With the Fisher King, and the wyverns."

"_He can't hear you," _Daneir inserted again. He stepped forward and punched Gwaine in the jaw, just as Gwaine had previously punched him. Gwaine's head snapped to the side, pulsing in pain, and he fell silent, glaring at the man who had taken control of his best friend.

"Now, first thing's first, I suppose," Daneir said, looking around as though in thought. "Before we begin the demonstration, what fun is a party without the king? He should be here to witness this. Emrys?"

Merlin's eyes shone gold again, and he spoke softly but urgently.

"Arthur!"

.~.

Arthur sat bolt upright in bed, looking around frantically. Gwen jerked awake at the motion and looked around sleepily for what had disturbed her husband.

"Arthur what is it?"

Arthur glared into the darkness. "All right Merlin, that was _not_ funny. Now where are you?"

Gwen, with a frown, sat up and lit the candle next to the bed. The soft glow gave off enough light to reveal that they were alone.

"You must have been dreaming," she said reassuringly, touching his arm.

_Arthur, help!_

Arthur jerked, looking every which way.

"Where are you?" he repeated aloud.

_I'm on the roof of the east tower. There's a sorcerer here! He—_

A scream resounded through Arthur's head, and his blood ran cold as he realized what was happening.

_He says for you to come here. He told me to tell you that. Come to the east tower, or he'll—_another scream interrupted him. _H—hurry!_

_Come, Your Majesty. _That was another voice, one unfamiliar to Arthur. _And he's right: best hurry._

Arthur was out of bed instantly, stopping only to grab his sword.

"Arthur!" Gwen shouted, making to get out of bed and follow him.

Arthur instantly stopped his mad dash and returned to her, placing both hands on her shoulders and gently pushing her back down onto the bed. "Merlin's gone and got himself in trouble," he explained quickly. "No, it's not a dream," he answered correctly as she opened her mouth to protest. "Just, _please_ stay here. Let me deal with this. I can't be worrying about you, too."

He prayed she would listen. Merlin was her friend, too, and he could just see her demanding to come along. But at last she nodded her reluctant agreement. That was all Arthur needed before he was out the door.

_I'm coming, Merlin!_ he called silently, not sure if Merlin could hear him, or if the sorcerer had already severed whatever connection he had created.

It was a trap. Of _course_ it was a trap. Someone had taken Merlin to goad and bait him. But he didn't care. The sorcerer wanted to have a go? That was fine by him. He tightened his grip on the sword's hilt and increased his speed.

**A/N: Uh oh. Muahaha!**

**Until next time! ;)**

**~Syd**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I'm back! Sorry guys. Life is…kind of insane. Not that that's particularly unusual…Next update will be quicker, I promise.**

**Anyway! Onto IG!**

**~Syd**

Chapter Ten

_Trap._

Silence responded. Silence and darkness.

_Trap._

_No._

_Trap. Don't._

The word resounded in his head, again and again.

_Trap. Trap. Trap._

But no sound passed his lips, and no magic passed any sound across the distance. He could do nothing to stop Arthur running headfirst into death.

Daneir's intent had rung through his head so silently. No words, but a warmth had tingled through Merlin's mind and he knew what he was supposed to do. The words had come so easily, sent through the distance and directly into Arthur's mind. They sounded so like _him. _His words, his voice, his intonation, even his own scream—all to fool Arthur, to lure him from the safety of the castle up to the tower.

Not that it mattered. No place was safe anymore.

_Trap._

But there was no warning the king.

.~.

Percival stared on silently throughout the exchange. Despite coming in at a distinct disadvantage of knowledge, the details of their situation became very clear, very quickly.

Detail number one: Merlin had magic.

This was the detail that had Percival most flabbergasted. The reason Gwaine had refused to say anything, the reason Merlin was in such trouble, the reason Merlin had always seemed like such a mystery, and the reason everything always turned out ok: Merlin had magic.

Really, it made perfect sense. So much so, that Percival couldn't help but think them all fools for never noticing before. His next thought was an absolute certainty that Lancelot had known all along. A pang of pain shot through him, as it always did when he thought of his lost friend, but suddenly the man's absolute faith in Merlin took on a whole new substance. Was it any wonder that Lancelot had been willing to drop everything and return to Camelot during Morgana's first usurpation, just because of a message from Merlin? Percival had thought him crazy at first. But now, he'd never been so glad he'd gone with Lancelot.

Detail number two: _Nigel's_ servant had magic. And was an enemy.

This was quite apparent from the moment Percival entered the room, when Gwaine was magically flung into him and they were then fighting for their lives. This also gave Percival reason to believe that the "trouble" Merlin had landed himself in involved these two. Those details were still a little unclear, but he figured that he could always get more specific details when this was all over. Assuming, of course, that they all actually survived this. But they had good track record when it came to surviving the impossible, didn't they?

Detail number three: Merlin was under the control of Daneir.

This was currently the most disturbing of the details—especially when combined with the first detail. Besides the simple fact that Merlin was their friend and was now basically a slave, Percival shuddered to think what his magic might be capable of when turned against them. He had no way of knowing just what Merlin was capable of, but given everything he had just learned, Percival would not be terribly surprised if Merlin could raze all of Camelot if he so chose. Somehow, it just seemed fitting that that he would be the one with a vast, hidden power.

"So," he said slowly, still pinned to the wall next to Gwaine. "That was a bit surprising."

"Which part?" Gwaine asked, eyes never leaving the empty shell of his friend who stood motionless next to Daneir as they waited for the king to arrive.

"All of it."

Gwaine nodded his agreement.

"So…how long have you known?"

"About Merlin?" he shrugged. "A few days."

This came as somewhat of a surprise. Gwaine and Merlin had always been so close, Percival would have guessed that Gwaine knew long before, but apparently Merlin was just too good at keeping secrets. Even so, he was the one Merlin had turned to when he needed help. Gwaine had never been one to follow rules he disagreed with. Law or not, he'd never have told anyone the boy's secret.

"Does…does Arthur know?"

Gwaine snorted, which was answer enough. Of course he didn't.

"I'm sorry," Gwaine said after a moment's silence. "I wanted to tell you what was going on."

Percival shook his head. "Don't be." He understood.

Their attention was drawn back to Merlin when he suddenly moved from his still position. Daneir watched him, but didn't seem concerned, so he must have given him some sort of new order. Gwaine's eyes widened in horror when Merlin climbed to the top of the parapet and turned, putting his back to the long fall that waited behind him.

"Merlin!" Gwaine shouted.

"Oh relax," Daneir inserted. "I'm not going to have him kill himself. That would be such a waste of potential. Magic like his will never walk this earth again." Indeed, Merlin made no other motion of any sort. He simply stood there silently.

The reason for this move became apparent when Arthur burst through the door, only to freeze at the dangerous sight that greeted him, successfully halted by Merlin's precarious position.

.~.

When Arthur at last made it to the tower, he didn't hesitate before he threw the door open and practically leapt the last distance onto the tower, fully prepared to simply run this sorcerer through the middle with his sword. Instead, he froze at the sight that greeted him—Merlin perched dangerously on the tower's edge, towering over a man he did not recognize who stood smiling cruelly at his feet. That must be the sorcerer.

"Sire get out of here!"

Arthur's head snapped to the side and he noticed Percival and Gwaine, pinned to the wall with their feet dangling over several inches of air. Next his eyes found Lord Nigel and widened in confusion as to why _he_ of all people was here.

"Step away from him," Arthur said with all the authority he possessed, turning to the unknown man.

The man simply tucked the corner of his lip into a sneer. Nigel, on the other hand, outright laughed, which easily answered Arthur's inner question about why he was obviously _not_ trapped like everyone else here was.

"Lord Nigel," Arthur said calmly, "looks like now I have proper cause to hate you. That's a small pleasure."

The lord spluttered at the insult, then his face turned beet red. "I'll have you know—"

"Oh, just shut up already. Emrys?" Daneir turned, of all people, to Merlin.

"_Silexiou,_" Merlin steadily declared. Nigel's jaw snapped shut, and he reached up, clawing at his mouth as though to pry his lips apart. Arthur barely noticed, his eyes were glued on Merlin in shock.

"Arthur, _leave," _Gwaine ordered with as much authority as he could muster. "_Now!"_

"I'm not going anywhere until someone tells me what the hell is going on," Arthur countered, eyes not leaving Merlin. "Merlin…what—how?"

"He's working with me, actually," Daneir inserted. "Or didn't you know that he had magic?"

Slowly, Arthur shook his head. "No. No, you're lying. Merlin, step down from there. Get away from him." But Merlin didn't move. He simply continued to stare at him, expression devoid of any of the Merlin that he knew. There was no humor, no softness, not even any fear or uncertainty that he would expect in this situation. "Merlin?"

"His name's not even Merlin, actually. Not really."

Arthur's heart was pounding in his chest. But his eyes narrowed in determination. "You're lying," he said firmly. Merlin was Merlin. Merlin did not have magic. Merlin was not a traitor. But that foreign word Merlin had uttered was fairly damning evidence.

"Well then. Emrys? How about a demonstration?"

Merlin's head turned ever so slightly, and his eyes flashed an unmistakable gold. With a loud crash, the tower to their right exploded. Large chunks of stone fell to the ground, destroying carts far below and cracking the cobblestones underneath. The remainder of the stones that hadn't moved were scorched black.

Arthur gaped, shocked into motionlessness, staring at the smoke and dust drift as it was tugged away by the wind. No thoughts passed his shocked brain.

No words, no motion. Just…_power._

"Arthur, _leave!_" Gwaine shouted. "You can't help him! Get out of here!"

It's not possible, Arthur thought. Morgana. Agravaine. Not Merlin, too. Never Merlin.

Slowly, Merlin turned on the spot, looking out over the city and the land before him. Arthur had the instant desire to jump forward and pull him backwards, away from the ledge, but he stayed his feet when Merlin slowly rose both his hands parallel with the ground. His head tipped backwards to the sky.

The wind picked up instantly, pulling at their clothes, and it was at that moment that Gwaine and Percival both fell the few inches to the stone, collapsing to their knees in surprise at their sudden freedom.

Percival reacted first. He regained his feet and made a mad dash for the stupefied king. A silver shimmer in the air appeared the moment Percival struck it, separating them and the king, and Gwaine understood why they had been released—they couldn't do anything anyways. Percival pounded on the invisible barrier. Gwaine watched it pulse silver at every strike, but it made no difference. Through all of it, Arthur remained oblivious to their attempts to reach him, still frozen in horror at the sight of his best friend's actions.

A strange energy filled the air, making Gwaine's hair stand on end and his skin tingle. A loud crack from overheard revealed the electricity that was building up around them as a giant fork of lightning flashed across the sky. Another shift of Merlin's head, and a hand leveled at the Forest of Ascetir to the east, and a bolt crashed down to meet the tallest tree. The fire that rose up instantly could not be mistaken, like a tall torch in the black night.

Several more cracks announced similar torches lighting.

"M—Merlin," the name was broken, though, and Arthur couldn't repeat his plea.

"It's not him, Arthur," Gwaine called through the barrier. Arthur turned his head around to Gwaine, eyes wide, confused, and desperate. Part of Gwaine was angry with Arthur for doubting Merlin at all—but it was a small part. For someone who had been betrayed so many times in his life, was it any wonder Arthur would have doubts after such evidence as Merlin's own actions? "Daneir is controlling him." The king turned again to face forward. Daneir wasn't watching him, he looked out over the burning forest with an insane look of glee on his face.

Merlin's other hand stretched over the grain fields towards the west in a closed fist. His whole arm shook with some restrained energy. A pressure built up in Gwaine's head. Then, Merlin's hand opened in a release.

As Gwaine's ears popped, the earth groaned in protest and shook with such great force that even the castle trembled. The ground rolled and rose, before sinking again and splitting open, a giant chasm formed down the center of the fields. Jagged brown forms emerged from the earth on either side of the chasm and rose, changing their flat landscape into a small range of barren hills.

"Yes, YES!" Daneir shouted.

Nigel stepped forward and shook the sorcerer's shoulder in annoyance, clearly aggravated that his mouth was still sealed shut. He pointed out towards the destruction Merlin had caused and waved his hand wildly, clearly trying to say something, then pointed to his mouth, stomping his foot like a petulant child. Daneir's shoulders tightened in annoyance again as he shook the man off, but then relaxed as he simply looked at Merlin.

Obediently, Merlin turned, eyes still blazing gold, and brushed Nigel's shoulder with his fingertips.

Nigel didn't even have time to let out a cry of pain before his body disintegrated into dust.

Gwaine, Arthur, and Percival all gaped in horror. Not even bones or clothes crumpled to the ground.

"Thank you, Emrys," Daneir said quite evenly, as though thanking him for carrying his bags. "Now for the real fun: kill Arthur Pendragon." Arthur's heart froze in his chest. He wouldn't. Surely he wouldn't.

But Merlin turned steadily to face him and raised his hand, eyes devoid of emotion.

"Merlin, _stop!_" Gwaine shouted, renewing his effort to break through the barrier.

Arthur stared into those cold eyes, numb. "Merlin," he said softly.

Merlin's eyes blazed gold.

**A/N: Tada! I know, I know. Me and my infamous cliffhangers. CURSE ME! Well, too bad. I'm the writer and can do as I wish. ;) Review please? What do you think's gonna happen? Next chapter should be coming along soon.**

**Loves,  
**

**~Syd  
**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Merlin's eyes blazed gold, hand leveled directly at Arthur.

The next moment, several cries of horror filled the air as Merlin tipped backwards ever so slightly and plummeted over the side of the wall.

"Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed. He ran forward, knowing there was nothing he could do.

Daneir, on the other hand, practically leapt forward until he was leaning over the wall, his hand punched forward with a shout of a single, foreign word. Arthur was able to look down with just enough time to see Merlin slow and hit the ground rather softly.

Arthur closed his eyes in the unbearable relief that swamped him. Soon his eyes flew open again, however, when he was flung backwards. He collided into Gwaine and the two of them went tumbling. Percival bravely stepped between them and Daneir, but the sorcerer made no further move against them.

"Impossible!" He muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. He glanced down over the wall again, but there was no way for Arthur to see what Merlin was doing. "Impossible!" he repeated.

He stood up straight again, and a moment later, with another pop, Merlin was again in front of them. One moment he was down below and the next he appeared as though from thin air. He stood silently, looking every bit the obedient servant. He didn't even turn to look at any of them but stood staring straight ahead of him. Daneir, on the other hand, stared at him, studying him carefully.

"How did you do that?" he muttered softly, clearly not expecting an answer.

"He won't kill Arthur," Gwaine stated firmly. All eyes turned to him. "That's one thing you'll never be able to make him do. He'd sooner kill himself than let you."

"He doesn't have a choice!" Daneir spat at him. "His will is _mine. _His power is _mine._"

"Clearly you don't have as strong a hold as you thought."

Daneir's harsh stare bore holes in him. "Well. I suppose I'll just have to break him, then," was his dark reply. "He _will_ kill you all. Then I will know that he really is mine."

"Good luck," Gwaine mocked.

Daneir threw his own hand forward to Gwaine, shouting another foreign word, and the knight sank to his knees with a cry of pain as his chest tightened up and his heart arrested for a brief but agonizingly long moment.

"Watch your tongue," the sorcerer spat. "Or I'll stop that heart of yours permanently. Emrys, take us to the dungeons."

The response was immediate. The pressure once again built up in Gwaine's head and his vision went black, until a moment and a pop later, he opened his eyes and found himself in dank air staring at the stone walls of a narrow corridor of a long row of cells.

There were no guards down here, as Camelot didn't currently hold any prisoners. The only guards would be at the top of the stairs that led down into the dungeons, keeping people out who shouldn't be there. But of course, that did nothing to stop them.

The door to the nearest cell swung open, and Gwaine felt himself pushed forward just enough to edge him forward until he walked into the cell at Percival's heels, with Arthur coming up behind him. The door clanked back into place and Gwaine heard the unmistakable grinding of the old lock as it clicked into place.

And just like that, Daneir and Merlin were gone.

So Arthur, Gwaine, and Percival stood silently in their cell, apparently waiting there until such a time as Daneir "broke" Merlin to the extent that he would kill them.

Arthur stared at the empty space beyond the bars where for a long time, hands wrapped around the cell bars. Gwaine and Percival exchanged uneasy glances.

"Arthur?" Gwaine asked tentatively, voice void of its usual mocking tone

Arthur's shoulders stiffened instantly, and his grip on the bars tightened. Several moments of tense silence followed. Then, without warning, the king spun on the spot and strode the short distance across the cell to stand directly in Gwaine's face. "Explain. _Now._"

Gwaine shifted uneasily, backing away slightly from the king's glare.

"Well," he began, trying to keep his voice light. "As far as I can tell, Merlin's been captured and brainwashed into following Daneir's evil will and we're all stuck in the dungeons in the meantime."

He expected Arthur to get riled up at the cheeky response, since all of that was obvious, and Gwaine knew _very_ well what Arthur was really asking. But all the king did was continue to glare at him, silently, not even acknowledging the useless information. Despite the anger he was clearly trying to portray, Gwaine couldn't help but think his glare was a bit more desperate than irate.

If he had argued, or raged, or anything that Gwaine had been bracing himself for, then Gwaine would have bolted his mouth shut and let him carry on with his tantrum. But the distressed silence was too much, even for Gwaine. With a defeated sigh, the knight ran a hand through his hair.

"We knew Nigel was no good," he said slowly, glancing to Percival who merely raised his eyebrows. He'd been wanting more information, too. "He wanted an amulet from the vaults, and was trying to coerce Merlin into getting it for him."

"The amulet Daneir was wearing?"

"Yes. I don't remember its name, but Merlin was quite adamant that Nigel not get his hands on it. Though as you probably figured out, turns out Nigel wasn't exactly the one behind everything."

"What is it?"

"Some sort of controlling device. Merlin can't help anything he's doing right now."

"And…and this amulet somehow gave Merlin this power?" A tense silence met his words. Gwaine didn't know what to say. To tell the truth would be to betray Merlin. But to lie, well. He didn't think Arthur would actually believe it anyway. And he wasn't sure he wanted to lie.

As the silence stretched on, Arthur closed his eyes, tight-lipped, and nodded slightly. He turned his back to them and strode back to the bars again.

"He's still our friend," Percival inserted. "No matter what he's capable of, his loyalty is to _you,_ Arthur."

"He has magic," Arthur muttered.

"He tried to kill himself in order to protect you," Gwaine reminded him, voice only slightly stern. The king made no response, so Gwaine took a breath to make another argument.

"Just—" Arthur interrupted, and then paused. "Just give me time, Gwaine."

"You've had _ten years_ to—"

"Gwaine," Percival interrupted, he shook his head slighty, so Gwaine held his tongue. Gwaine and Percival retreated to the back of the cell, leaving Arthur to his thoughts in peace.

"Any thoughts?" Gwaine asked quietly.

"Just one," Percival answered. "Not that it will help much while we're in here, but we need to get that amulet back."

"Agreed. But we'll have to go through Merlin to get it."

"Not if Daneir's distracted and using Merlin to deal with something else."

He nodded in determination. "That means one of us will still have to face Merlin," he pointed out. "I'll do it. Maybe I'll be able to get through to him."

"No." The two turned to the king again, who's back was still to them. "I'll face Merlin. You two get that amulet."

Percival and Gwaine exchanged uneasy glances. "Arthur," Percival began slowly, "do you really think that's a good idea? I mean, getting through to him will be hard, maybe even impossible. And you're not exactly…"

"In an agreeable state of mind," Gwaine finished.

"I'll do it," Arthur repeated firmly, still not turning around. "I'll bring him back," he added softly. Gwaine almost didn't hear the last part.

"Sire—"

"Look!" Arthur finally snapped, turning around on them. "Merlin's clearly fighting Daneir, or I'd be dead. You said it yourself, Merlin won't kill me. I'm his best shot right now."

"And if he tries to kill himself again in order to stop himself?"

"I won't let him," he answered firmly.

"You sure about that?"

"Gwaine." Gwaine met Percival's disapproving look, but he didn't care. Yes, this was difficult for Arthur. Yes he would need time to come to grips with it. But if Gwaine was going to entrust Merlin's safety to someone, it had to be someone who genuinely had Merlin's back.

"It's ok, Percival," Arthur said steadily, eyes not leaving Gwaine. "Look," he said slowly. "I…I don't know what to think. I don't know what to _do._ But I _will_ hear Merlin's explanation. And that can't happen unless he's himself again. So: _I won't let him."_

.~.

It shouldn't be possible. Everything Daneir had heard or read about Arolygaeth said that the prisoner was unable to act on his own. Yet not only had Emrys clearly managed to act briefly of his own will, he had used that single act to go against a direct order. It had only been a single step, but that step had almost been enough.

Daneir thumbed the amulet in his hand. It still glowed faintly, ever linked to two sources of power: himself, and Emrys. There was no pulse, as he was not currently giving any instructions to the warlock, just a steady stream of connection.

The delight was still there—that strange, crazed joy that had filled him when the amulet first activated in his grasp. It was beautiful. Why had Emrys been so horrified? This was clearly spectacular.

The amulet clearly had some small amount of sentience. He could hear the faintest whispers in the back of his mind, but they were too distant to make them out. But they filled him with a sense of power and control. But no sense of control from the amulet could outweigh the beautiful knowledge that he now owned the great and powerful Emrys.

He—Daneir—now held more power than he'd ever dare dream of. Since he'd begun studying sorcery, he had developed into a rather strong magic wielder, but no sorcerer could ever match up against a born warlock. Now? Never again would anyone be able to lift a finger against him. Never again would anyone die in his care.

Emily…

If only he'd had this power back then. That sorcerer would never have stood a chance.

But that all meant nothing if his control was not complete.

He stood abruptly, again studying Emrys's face, moving until he stood inches from him, staring into his eyes that still shone gold.

"How did you fight me?" he asked again. Nothing in his research had prepared him for this. It shouldn't be possible, but somehow the man in front of him had broken free for a brief moment.

"Is it because you're Emrys?" he thought aloud. "Too powerful to be fully controlled?" No. No power was too much. He was determined. That knight, he'd said it was because of Arthur—some sort of determined loyalty. Would that be enough?

"It doesn't matter," he said, still inches from Emrys's face. "I will break you. You _will_ kill the king."

.~.

_No._

A haze encased Merlin's world. His vision was distorted and blurry, only to focus on small pieces when Daneir's will encroached. Arthur had been crystal clear when the command to kill came, taking up the entirety of his world. Words sounded like they were underwater. Arthur's plea was distant, and muffled.

"How did you fight me?"

Merlin was vaguely aware of the fact that they were no longer on the tower, or in the dungeon. He hadn't quite made out where they were now.

He had fought? He'd tried, but nothing had happened.

The tower, destroyed.

The forest, destroyed,

The fields, destroyed.

Nigel, destroyed.

Why was his power so destructive?

He had tried. He had _tried_.

_Kill Arthur Pendragon._

_No._

_No. _

_How did you fight me?_

Did he fight?

_Kill Arthur Pendragon._

But he hadn't. He distinctly remembered: _he hadn't._ One clear detail in his hazy, hazy mind—amidst the blurred images, muffled sounds, and distant whispers: Arthur's face disappearing from view; a _rush_ of air. Then?

He hadn't killed Arthur.

How? He had to find out how. But everything was just so fuzzy…

"It doesn't matter." But it did matter. Nothing had ever mattered like this had, right now.

How had he fought?

"I will break you. You _will_ kill the king."

**A/N: There you have it. A brief insight into Merlin's mind. An even briefer insight into Daneir's history. More to come about both, I assure you. Any thoughts as to what Daneir's backstory/motive is? I'm curious what you all will think. Please review!**

**~Syd**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, OH MY GOSH! Ok, so I know nothing's been confirmed or anything, but I just heard that there's a possibility of upcoming MERLIN MOVIES! Is this true? I am crossing my fingers. That would be epic. Although, I also read that there are two different paths their considering—either a movie rehash of the series with new scenes that we didn't get to see, or a continuation of the series after season 5. I want a continuation! (Though I shall not object to either.)**

**This is probably old news to everyone, BUT IT'S NEW TO ME! I have hope! And I shall be seriously upset if this is a false hope. :(**

**In the meantime, reading all your theories on Daneir's background has been quite interesting. Some of you got quite creative… :) In any case, thanks for reviewing! I love reading your theories and just your general responses. Onto chapter twelve!**

**~Syd**

Chapter Twelve

"The attack appears to have stopped, for now," Guinevere said from her standing position at the round table. "But whatever or whoever is behind this is still out there." The knights around her either nodded their agreement or remained grimly still. They all wore hastily equipped armor. Gwen herself had quickly thrown on her simple riding gear—which was much quicker to dress in than any of her gowns, and far more practical.

The doors burst open and in ran Leon. At Gwen's eager look, he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but I was unable to find him."

Gwen wilted slightly, but with a determined air, she nodded firmly. "Thank you, Sir Leon. He will join us, I am sure. Please take your seat." Leon did as ordered, but the mood around the table had unmistakably darkened.

A mysterious attack, and a missing king.

"Gaius," Gwen turned to the aging physician. "Any idea as to what may be behind all of this?"

Gaius hesitated, which made Gwen frown. It was not like him to hesitate in these matters—at least not since Arthur had taken the throne. Unlike Uther, Arthur actually listened to him the first time.

"There is no mistaking this as anything natural," he said at last. "The only explanation is a magical attack."

Murmurs of agreement rang through the room, but Gwen did not join them. When Gaius finished speaking, he remained with his eyes on the table. Gwen studied him. His shoulders were tense, his brow creased in unmistakable worry. Occasional, subtle jerks in his body revealed that he was ever so slightly shaking. He was scared.

In all the years she had known Gaius, she had never truly seen him scared.

"Gaius, what is it?" She asked calmly. His eyes lifted in slight surprise to meet hers, and they gleamed a little too brightly to be simple candlelight reflected in dry eyes.

He hesitated again. When he opened his mouth, he had to clear his throat before the first word would speak. "It's just," he said slowly, "whoever is behind this is terribly powerful."

"Unless it is more than one sorcerer," Leon inserted.

Gaius nodded. "That is always a possibility," he agreed. But Gwen could tell he did not believe that to be the case. He knew something—something that he wasn't willing to share with the lot of them, something that was upsetting him.

Arthur had left because something was wrong with Merlin. Did Gaius know something, too?

She never got the chance to ask.

Once again, the doors burst open. Many of the knights jumped to their feet, hands going instantly to their swords, but relief washed through them all when their missing king stepped into the room, closely followed by Gwaine and Percival.

"Arthur!" Gwen stepped around her chair and ran forward.

"Stay back, Guinevere."

She stopped dead, three steps away from the table, noting the deadly serious look on all three faces. Before she could even ask what was wrong, two more figures walked through the door.

"Merlin!" But Gwen's relief was properly negated when Arthur firmly shook his head.

"He's not Merlin."

"What?" Gwen backed up another step, sensing how deeply, deeply wrong something was. She chanced a look at Gaius. The old man slowly stood, eyes never leaving Merlin, his gaze just as dark as Arthur's.

"Well," the second man said, looking around the room casually. Gwen recognized him as Lord Nigel's personal servant. "I think a bit of change is in order, don't you? Emrys, would you be so kind?"

Emrys? Gwen thought. Her question was answered when Merlin raised his hand. It was only then that she realized his eyes were not their usual blue.

"_Toriad." _The harsh sound of cracking stone made Gwen swivel on the spot, only to stare in shock at the round table that was no longer a round table, but a pile of stone that continued to break apart into small pieces.

"_Cyfnewadis."_

The stone fragments pulled back together, seeming to meld into each other to form something entirely new. Many of the knights were thrust to the side as the new object flew to the end of the hall, against the wall—a raised dais with an unmistakable throne.

Nigel's servant strode forward confidently. Several of the nearest knights drew their swords, only to find their limbs frozen, unable to move the blade forward in any way. The man took his seat on the throne, looking around the room as though this were a completely natural course of events.

"From now on," he declared steadily, "you will refer to me as King Daneir of Camelot. I warn you now: I will not tolerate any rebellion, nor any disrespect. Your next actions will determine your fate. Choose carefully."

"And if we refuse?" Leon asked.

"Then you will be killed."

"I would rather die than—"

"And for each one of you who refuses, I will also kill ten random citizens of Camelot."

Horrified silence met his words.

"Arthur," Daneir turned his attention to the former king. "Dear, dear Arthur Pendragon. You're the exception. If you refuse, I'll kill half the kingdom."

"And how do you expect to do that?" Gwen asked, after a long, stunned pause. "That seems an awfully big task for a single man."

"He can do it," Arthur answered firmly. His eyes never left Daneir, even when Gwen's eyes shifted to him.

Gwen's eyes flickered to Merlin again. Or not-Merlin, apparently. But who was he, if he wasn't Merlin? Obviously a sorcerer. Was he the one behind the attacks? The tower, the fields, the forest? How long had he been impersonating Merlin? Where _was_ Merlin? Was he all right? Was it the real Merlin who had lured Arthur out tonight? Or had it been this imposter?

She stared at not-Merlin, trying to discern…anything. But his eyes were so empty and lifeless, despite the gold in their depths.

Slowly, Arthur stepped forward.

"Sire!" Leon protested, but Arthur held up a hand to silence him.

Arthur came to a halt before the dais, looking up at the man who sat calmly and confidently over him.

"My pride is not worth thousands of lives," he steadily declared, and sank to one knee.

Gwen raised a hand to her chest.

This couldn't be happening. Surely, it couldn't be happening! Even Morgana had never gotten Arthur to give up!

She glanced at the imposter again. There was no change in his expression, no emotion or any sort of recognition at all.

Something was deeply, deeply wrong.

.~.

Eventually, in Merlin's hazy state of mind, he realized the whispers he was hearing were not, in fact, voices from outside his head that he just couldn't quite make out, although they did tend to blend with the voices of the knights around him.

_Who are you?_ he tried to ask the darkness, but the unintelligible words did not become any clearer. They tingled in the back of his mind. But what were they?

His sight was as blurry as ever, especially as Daneir was not currently giving him any orders but to stand there. The haze of motion and voices around him were still muffled. He had been fighting so hard to make things clearer, to gain some semblance of control or clarity. But the more he tried, the more distant those whispers became.

Instead, he let what remained of his attention drift inwards. He listened to his breathing, listened to his heartbeat. The world outside him faded to black, although he was pretty sure his eyes were still open. The muffled voices became even more muted.

The whispers grew louder. But they were just as indistinct, just as unintelligible as they were before.

There were _hundreds_ of them, he realized. So many voices, crying out from the darkness.

_Who are you?_ he asked again.

If they could hear or understand him, he could not tell.

Shock resounded through him, snapping his attention outwards once again. The darkness faded as much as it ever did, and the intent of Daneir's command rang through him as the new king standing in front of the throne became crystal sharp.

_No. _

Not again, not again.

_No._ _No more._

His feet turned him around, and he was running out the door, his magic propelling him faster than was natural, chasing down the wayward king who had dared to make a break for it.

_Arthur, run._

_._~.

Slowly, one by one, the knights sank to a knee in front of Daneir, their hesitating eyes glancing to Arthur the entire time. Each time Arthur met their gaze, he nodded firmly. Protect the innocent now, rise up and kick this usurper off the throne later. A simple bow meant nothing. He knew where their loyalties lay.

As Daneir's glee grew at each bent knee, Arthur slowly stepped away from the dais to the wall, where a long tapestry hung innocently. Every knight knew what it concealed, but he doubted Daneir would be privy to the knowledge of the servant's entrance that was only revealed for easy access at formal events.

There he waited, eyes studying the false king. When his head turned slightly to squarely look at Leon—the last knight standing—Arthur quickly and quietly made his exit, the tapestry waving behind him slightly.

He was at the end of the cooridor before the furious scream met his ears. He distinctly heard the name "Emrys" shouted before he frantically opened the door and launched himself into the next hallway.

"Come on, Merlin," Arthur muttered, sprinting as fast as his feet would carry him, sparing the barest glance over his shoulder.

Facing forward again, Arthur skidded to an abrupt halt when a familiar face came into his vision.

He swore slightly. He had hoped to get a bit farther away before Merlin cut him off. He was only a few corridors down from the council room.

"Merlin, you have to snap out of it!" Arthur demanded, bending his knees slightly to prepare for a fight he knew he would lose. "It's me! It's Arthur!"

Merlin didn't so much as move, just stood their, silently staring. Arthur had to wonder exactly what Merlin's orders had been. Stop Arthur and hold him until Daneir came? He could only hope he'd bought Gwane and Percival enough of a distraction to get ahold of that amulet.

"Merlin," Arthur continued, voice softer. No recognition. "When we first met, you didn't know who I was. You called me an ass. And even after you learned who I was—even after you'd been put in the dungeons _and_ the stocks!—you still told me off the next time you saw me. We fought with maces, and you almost even bested me, though I will deny that like the plague if I ever get you back again." Arthur studied his friend's face, but there was still no recognition in those eyes. His hands remained stiff at his sides. "You have _never_ taken orders, Merlin." Arthur reminded him. "Not from me, and certainly not from any sorcerer. _Fight _him Merlin!" He took a step forward, and that's when Merlin's arm shot up, hand leveled threateningly at the king.

A day ago, Arthur would have laughed. But now he knew just how much power that hand held.

"Merlin," Arthur said, even more softly. "This isn't you. I don't know much—heck, I'm beginning to wonder if I ever knew _anything_—but I know that much. _This isn't you._ So many times you've saved me at your own sacrifice. You've drunk poison for me, you've pulled me out of the way of daggers, you've warned me of dangers that I didn't even _see,_ no matter how many times I didn't listen or even reprimanded you for the trouble. You jumped off the _castle_ in order to protect me!

"You're powerful. _So_ powerful…" Arthur shuddered as he thought back to the little demonstration Daneir had orchestrated. "Show Daneir just what you're really capable of. Show him what a fool he is for trying to control you! _Fight him!"_

Throughout the speech, Merlin continued to stare, eyes unblinking. His hand remained leveled at Arthur. Several moments of silence stretched on, but nothing happened, nothing changed.

Then Arthur noticed that Merlin's hand, ever threatening, was trembling ever so slightly, and the king's breath hitched at a realization.

Merlin _was_ fighting.

"Merlin?"

And those cold, lifeless, unblinking eyes overflowed.

"You _can_ hear me," Arthur realized.

But those eyes tuned gold, and a now-familiar pressure built up in the king's head as Merlin transported them back to his waiting master.

**A/N: Tada! Things are coming to a head now. Only a few chapters left. (Not entirely sure how many. I have a ball-park, but my ball-parks are rarely accurate when it comes to length.) Review please?**

**~Syd**


End file.
